


Happy Birthday to You!

by Bellaz0id



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Party, Celebrations, Cussing, Cute, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Love, dean/reader friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-05 03:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3103124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellaz0id/pseuds/Bellaz0id
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's your birthday! Sam wants to celebrate the occasion but it's not really something you're into. So you strike a deal. Fluff and hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Deal Is Struck

“So Dean, y/n and I have been having a discussion,” Sam said to Dean with an arrogant tone, apparently sure that Dean would take his side and you'd be done for. The three of you were sitting at a bar in Wyoming on your way home from a hunt in Oregon. You all had gotten rooms at a motel near by and were going to finish the drive back to Lebanon in the morning.

“That so?” Dean asked, leaning forward and propping himself up on his elbow. They were seated either side of you. Sam leaned forward to face Dean and you had the distinct feeling of being surrounded and trapped. Your face grew stern and you glanced up toward the ceiling, wishing this conversation wasn't about to happen. Dean smirked at your obvious discomfort.

“Yeah, I don't know if you know this Dean, but y/n's birthday is tomorrow,” Sam said deviously.

“Come on, Sam. 'Course I knew. You start seriously dating a girl, I do my research. Especially if she's going to be living in the bunker with us,” Dean said rolling his eyes sarcastically. “What do I look like, an idiot? Don't answer that,” Dean added quickly, pointing at you before you could even get the first syllable of a retort out. You frowned for show but then smiled in spite of yourself.

“Okay, Mr. Research, tell me, where was I born?” you asked Dean knowingly, raising both your eyebrows at him.

“Well... umm...” Dean fumbled and began motioning uncomfortably with his hands. “I, uh... you were born... here... in this country,” Dean finished with a deadpan tone, his mouth twisted with a sarcastic smile.

“That's what I thought,” you said with a smirk. You smugly picked up your cocktail and finished it in one gulp. Dean made a mocking expression at you but you ignored it.

“Right, so... anyways,” Sam said, getting the conversation back on track. You huffed, surrendering to your fate. “Would you believe that y/n here, doesn't want to do anything to celebrate her birthday?” Sam asked with sarcastic disappointment.

“Oh, come on, not even free birthday shots?” Dean asked, seemingly hurt and offended by such a notion.

“Not even free birthday shots,” Sam said, shaking his head sadly.

“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Dean asked with a tone of frustration.

“Oh, come on guys, you know I don't like being the center of attention. And I honestly just don't see the point. I got squeezed out of a vagina... big woop! If anyone should get presents on birthdays, it's the mother!”

“Well, I can't argue with your last point but you know I can't give your mom cake and presents,” Sam said, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. “So how about we go with the next best thing... you! And whose attention, exactly, are you going to be the center of? Because it's just the three of us... and Cas, when he shows up. You're already the center of my attention. You take up half of Dean's attention. Getting you a couple presents and eating a cake hardly alters that much,” Sam argued.

 _“Damn, he made his points well. He'd have made a great lawyer...”_ you thought.

“You know what,” you said with a small smile, “You're right. Let's do this. Birthday cake, presents, balloons, dinner, whole nine yards.”

“Really? You're giving in just like that, after all of the arguing you've done for the last week?” Sam asked, arching a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well, I have my conditions,” you smirked. You caught the eye of the bartender and motioned for a second round of drinks.

“As all smart women do,” Dean said grinning. “Sammy, never trust a woman who doesn't have conditions, means she's hiding something,” he said, sloshing his drink around as he motioned with the glass in his hand.

“Uh... noted...” Sam said uncomfortably as his eyes shifted between your pointed glare and Dean, the object of your glare. The bartender set down your fresh drinks. You broke for a moment to smile and thank him but quickly went back to glaring down Dean.

“Excuse me?” you said, your tone heavily implying annoyance. Dean looked up from his glass, confused.

“What?” he asked out of the side of his mouth, avoiding your full glare.

“We're in a committed relationship, Dean,” you said, angrily motioning between yourself and Sam. “You're implying that one day we will not be in a committed relationship.”

“That's not- I didn't mean- Oh, come on!” Dean stuttered out, frustrated. “Women... exist... you know... in the world... generally. We frequently have to find people who are hiding something! That's all I meant!” Dean explained angrily.

“It's not, but you're an idiot so I'll let it slide,” you said, inflection-less, before taking a sip from your glass. Sam stifled his laughter.

“Ass,” Dean shot at you in a hushed tone.

“Dick,” you impulsively shot back. He smiled and tilted his glass at you before taking a sip. These kinds of arguments were pretty much run of the mill with you and Dean. They had no affect on your friendship, though. At least, not for extended periods of time.

“So... your conditions?” Sam asked, once again having to redirect the conversation.

“Right!” you said sitting up straight and grinning.

“Oh boy, this is gonna be bad,” Dean muttered.

“If I concede to having birthday celebrations... then so will the two of you!” you said happily, feeling certain that they'd never agree to it.

“What? We celebrate our birthdays,” Dean said confused.

“Free birthday shots don't count, Dean! Do you even sing the song?”

“Oh yeah, can't you see me taking my fifth shot of the night and drunkenly singing 'Happy Birthday' to Sam while we sit in some corner booth at a dive bar? Yeah, that would go over really well with the local biker gang,” Dean said sarcastically.

“If you don't sing the song, no birthday's were celebrated,” you argued with a pleased grin.

“So, you're saying you want us to do the whole nine yards, too; cake, balloons, singing, cards, presents, pizza?” Sam asked.

“Whole nine yards,” you smirked.

“And you're grinning right now because you think we won't agree to it?” he asked.

“Essentially,” you said, still smiling.

“Can I just say, I don't think I should count in all this,” Dean said, drawing a circle with his finger on the bar top. You turned on your seat to face him. “This seems more like a relationship thing, so you two can make that deal and I'll just be over here finishing my whiskey in peace,” he smiled and took a sip. You tilted your head at Sam and looked down your nose at him, asking a silent question. He motioned for you to go ahead.

“Dean, if I have a birthday party, and Sam has a birthday party, you're going to have a goddamned birthday party. You know why? Because you'll see our presents, you'll see our cakes-”

“Pie!” he interjected.

“Yes, you'll see our... pies... and cards and you'll want it too! But then you'll be too proud to tell us. And you'll mope around for a month wishing you weren't such a pig headed dummy who can't say that he wants to celebrate his birthday!” you said clapping him on the shoulder. Sam was laughing quietly.

“I really don't think I will, sweetheart,” Dean said raising his glass to his lips.

“Fine, even if that didn't happen, how exactly do you think you can stop Sam and me from throwing you a party?” you said, motioning between yourself and Sam with your thumb.

“Uh, y/n? I think you've just uncovered a snag in your own argument against having a birthday party for you,” Sam said grinning. You spun on your seat to face him. Your face was transfixed with mild horror.

“No! You can't make me! I'll go nuts! I'll lock myself in my room and blare angry music for twenty-four hours straight! And I'll kick! And I'll scream! And I'll cry!” You said shaking your head slightly, your eyes wide with terror.

“Geez, if you don't want it that badly, we won't do it.... Man,” he snapped his finger, “I'll have to take back your present... It was a good one too... you would have really, really loved it...” Sam said teasing you with his fake dismay.

“Present?” you asked, your lips breaking into a slight frown.

“Yeah, I got you- Well, it doesn't matter now...” he frowned and looked down at his beer.

“Well, if you want to give me a present... you can give me a present,” you said quietly and nodded your head just a touch.

“Ah, you see, that's the thing,” he said smiling sadly at you, “Presents are only for people who are having birthday celebrations.”

“Sam Winchester you are an evil, torturous devil-man!” you said with wide, disappointed eyes.

“Woah, woah, watch who you call devil-man, lady!” Dean said shaking his head and arching an eyebrow at you. You immediately realized what you'd said and turned to Sam with your biggest, saddest, most apologetic eyes.

“Oh my god, Sam! I didn't realize what I was saying! I didn't mean- I'm so sorry!”

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “It's okay! I know you didn't mean it like that. Besides, I've really moved on from the whole “Lucifer's vessel” thing. It was what it was.” You saw his hand resting on the bar top and immediately covered it with yours, lacing your fingers over his.

“But you know, if you want to make it up to me...” he said giving you an innocent smile and raising his eyebrows in earnest.

“Oh my god, I hate you so much!” you said, releasing his hand angrily and turning to face straight ahead. Dean laughed so loudly that people in the booths behind you turned to stare despite the blaring music.

“If by hate you mean love, then yes, you do,” Sam said, smiling and grabbing your hand and holding it on the bar top. You sighed heavily and tilted your face toward the ceiling in exasperation.

“Hey, Sammy, I think that means you wore her down,” Dean said grinning.

“I hate you too,” you said through gritted teeth.

“If by hate you mean love, then yes, you do,” Dean said in a mocking sing-song voice before motioning to you with his glass and taking a sip. Dean laughed into his glass and Sam chuckled.

“So... you get a birthday, and you get a birthday, and I get a birthday... we're all getting birthday's... yaaaay...” you said vacantly before gulping the rest of your drink down. You were really starting to feel the buzz from the alcohol. Sam and Dean did the same with their drinks and the three of you exchanged uneasy looks. _“Well, let this be a reminder to them,”_ you thought, _“If they want to push me in the pool, they're going in with me.”_

 

A few hours later you and Dean were leaning against each other for support as you wandered around the bar. Sam, your designated driver for the evening, was being no help. He got a little too much enjoyment out of watching you and Dean drunkenly solve a problem. The current one being how to get out of the bar. You'd already mistaken the bathroom doors for the exit... twice. You were both giggling at your inability to find the way out as you slowly walked around the bar which was located in the middle of the room and formed a rectangle. Dean seemed to suddenly remember something and grew quiet as he thought for a moment. You each had an arm around the others shoulder to keep from falling. He looked over at you as you continued stumbling forward.

“Y/n, I'm sorry,” Dean slurred.

You furrowed your brow and squinted at him. “Oh, it's okay, Dean. We'll find our way out eventually,” you said smiling at him.

“No... 'cause of what I said,” he said in a hushed tone and looked at you with droopy eyes.

You continued squinting at him and tried to remember what he'd said.

“I don't ever want you and Sam to split up. 'Cause if you did then you'd probably move out... and stop hunting with us... and we wouldn't be friends anymore... and Sam would be sad... and it would suck...,” Dean had stopped walking but kept his arm around your shoulder. You thought there might be tears in his eyes but it was hard to be sure with your fuzzy brain.

“Dean...,” you whispered. It broke your heart to think this was an actual concern of his. You had to make sure he realized this was not something he needed to worry about. You took a moment to collect your thoughts, which was really quite a feat in your inebriated state. “There are like,” you took out your free hand to count on your fingers, “One... two... three... four... five... There are five things that would make me break up with Sam. And none of them are things that Sam would ever do.” It was taking all your focus to form these complete sentences. “And even if the world goes insane and Sam does do one of those things... well, I say we kick Sam out because he's clearly the asshole. And we can stay best friends and hunting buddies until Sam get's his shit together,” you said, smiling drunkenly at him.

Dean laughed. “Yeah... that's a way better outcome than the one I thought of,” he said as you began walking again. You chuckled.

“Hey, is that the bathroom? 'Cause I need to take a leak,” Dean said as he noticed a door up ahead.

“No! It's the outside,” you squealed.

You made your way out the door and sighed as you felt the night air cool your flushed skin.

“Took you idiots long enough,” Sam said with a chuckle as he walked out the door behind you.

“Well, it would've been a lot faster if you'd helped,” you said incredulously.

“It's a bar with one room and a patio. I didn't know it would be so difficult to find your way out. Besides, this was way more fun,” he said smirking.

“Dean, I hate your brother,” you said as Sam wrapped his arm around your waist. You leaned against his side and Dean let his arm slip from around your shoulder.

“And it was one room, but the bar was in the middle so the room was like... a circle. And the door could have been on any of those walls,” you rationalized as you slipped an arm around Sam's waist, curling further into him as he walked you to the car.

“Of course, hon,” Sam said through muffled lips as he placed a lingering kiss to the top of your head. You could hear the happiness in his voice and it made you smile.

Sam guided you to the passenger side of the Impala and helped you into the car. Dean opened the door to the back seat but then realized that he still had to pee.

“I'll be right back,” he said, leaving the door open.

Sam climbed into the drivers seat and you laid down, resting your head on his thigh. The world was spinning around you but you focused really hard on Sam's arm draped over you and his leg beneath you and somehow the spinning slowed down to a less nauseating pace.

“Hey,” Sam whispered as he jostled you. You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him.

“It's one o'clock. It's been your birthday for a full hour,” he whispered excitedly. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut tight. Sam chuckled. “Happy Birthday,” he whispered and you felt his breath against your face. His lips pressed against your forehead and you lifted an arm to hold the side of his face. He lifted his lips and moved down to press them softly to yours. Your hand found his face again and you held it gently. It was nice kissing like this: drunk and not facing the same direction. It confused your brain just enough to make it feel like kissing was something new and fresh and not something you'd done consistently and frequently, especially since meeting Sam. You parted your lips and waited for Sam to deepen the kiss. He pulled away and chuckled softly.

“What's wrong?” you asked, furrowing your brow and pouting slightly.

“It's really hard to make-out at this angle,” he said, his face hovering about a foot above yours.

“Oh,” you pouted. “Well, I'd move but I'm really comfortable and also drunk. So don't crash and kill us on the way to the motel because I really want to kiss you properly before I fall asleep,” you said with your eyes shut gently. Sam laughed. You turned and laid on your side, pulling your arms to your chest.

“I promise I will not let you die before I get to kiss you again,” Sam said and you both chuckled.

“We're really dark,” you said while he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Yeah, but I can hardly blame us.”

Just then Dean climbed into the backseat and loudly slammed the door.

“Dude, that was the longest piss in the history of pisses,” Sam said as he started the car.

“Where did you even pee?” you asked.

“I have no idea,” Dean answered as he laid down across the backseat, resting his head on his hands. You and Sam exchanged disgusted looks before he maneuvered out of the parking lot and drove to the motel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked it! 
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought! 
> 
> The second chapter is coming soon!


	2. Piece of Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You drive the guys back to home to Lebanon. But as all good car rides go, it’s not that simple. Angst and fluff and hangovers!

The next morning you woke to Sam gently placing kisses all over your face.

“Happy Birthday,” he said in a sing-song voice between kisses. You groaned and turned away from him, pulling the covers over your head.

“Wow, that was rude. I was kissing that face,” Sam laughed as he pulled on the comforter.

“Sleeeeeepy,” you whined and tightened your grasp on the comforters edge.

“It’s your birthday and I don’t want to spend all of it in the car. Get up,” Sam griped. You slowly pulled the blanket down to just past your eyes. Sam was sitting on his side of the bed, fully clothed and freshly showered.

“How the fuck can you be up and dressed and showered and looking so perfect at this ungodly hour? You’re a monster. I’m breaking up with you,” you said sardonically. Sam laughed and patted your side.

“I wouldn’t call eight o’clock ungodly,” he said as he laid down and curled up next to you, above the covers.

“Monster,” you snapped. You pulled the blanket down to your neck. Sam leaned toward you, his lips reaching for yours but you quickly pulled the blanket back up over your mouth. His lips pressed yours through the fabric and he pulled back with his brows knit together in confusion.

“My mouth tastes how a bar dumpster smells. And I feel all sweaty and yucky. Like, this is some Ke$ha level hangover right here. How did you possibly manage to sleep in the same bed as me?”

“Well, I can’t say it was easy. There were moments where I thought I’d rather be back in the cage than laying in bed with your grossness but with strength, courage and valor, I managed to pull through and survive the night,” Sam teased. You laughed and pulled the covers back down to your neck.

“I love you,” you said, smiling at him. He leaned over and kissed the apple of your cheek.

There was a knock on the door. “It’s me,” Dean called.

“Come in,” you and Sam answered together.

He walked in looking fresh, clean and chipper and you wanted to punch him.

“Okay, seriously, is this, like, a freakish genetic disorder I don’t know about?” you asked, irritated.

“Eh?” Dean asked, crinkling his brows and looking to Sam.

“She’s mad because we’re dressed and awake and we don’t smell like a bar,” Sam explained with a smile twitching at his lips.

“Ah,” Dean said, nodding and shrugging his shoulders. “Well, I brought the birthday girl the Dean Winchester Hangover Cure. Comes with a money back guarantee. I hope it’ll make up for our freakishness,” he said, grinning.

“Toast?” you asked excitedly as you slowly pulled yourself upright.

“And your favorite coffee,” he said handing you the giant, warm, paper cup and a plate piled high with five pieces of toast. “And water,” he added, pulling a bottle from his formerly bulging jacket pocket. You set the cup of coffee on the nightstand and took the water bottle from him, suddenly realizing how dehydrated you were. You drank half the bottle without stopping and immediately started in on the toast.

“Dean, I’ve never loved you more,” you said through mouthfuls of bread. Sam and Dean both laughed. Dean had taken a seat at the small table next to the bed and turned on the tv. You finished the bread, took several gulps of coffee and then went to shower so you too could join the freakishly clean club.

Less than an hour later you were flying down the interstate on your way back home to the bunker. You’d managed to convince Dean to let you drive. It was your birthday, after all, and that meant they had to let you do everything you wanted to do. Today that meant driving. Dean had given in surprisingly easy. He protested more to your radio station of choice than he did to you getting behind the wheel.

“Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his piehole. Well, in your case backseat, but the rule still applies,” you said, quoting him from one of the first times you’d ridden in the Impala and he’d swatted your hand away from the tuner. He had pursed his lips and slid back from where he’d been leaning against your seat to cross his arms and glare at you in the rear-view mirror. He had managed to keep up that glare for nearly ten minutes until your station started playing commercials so you gave in and found a classic rock station. And instantly he was cheerful again.

You were leaning against the door with your elbow hanging out the window, your hair blowing gently in the wind. You must have been quite the sight to behold because Sam was admiring you unabashedly from the passenger seat.

“What?” you asked quietly with a small grin after the fourth time you caught him staring at you. He made no attempts to hide his giant, beaming smile. He shook his head gently.

“You know exactly what,” he said and then absentmindedly licked his lips. You glanced momentarily but noticeably at his mouth and bit your bottom lip, briefly regretting your decision to drive. You turned your face back toward the road and ran your hand through your hair.

“Do you have any idea how wonderful you are?” he asked, still admiring you. You blushed and fought your smile as you glanced at him for just a moment.

“I mean, I don’t exactly think I’m trash but I’m pretty vividly aware of my faults.”

Sam shook his head. “You deserve to be with the best guy on this planet. I’m just sorry I’m not him. And I’m sorry that I don’t think I could ever give you up to him.” He smiled gently at you. You felt your heart squeeze woefully before it leapt up to your throat. You quietly seethed that after all this time, Sam still had such a low opinion of himself. You wanted to keep the day light and fun so you searched for the words that would keep it that way.

“Tell me more about this guy I deserve. What’s he like?” you asked with a teasing smile.

Sam thought for a moment before answering. “Well, he’s really smart so he can keep up with you and challenge you and always knows the best solution to your problems and the best way to protect you. And he’s very nice, painfully nice, even to people he doesn’t really like. He’s a really good guy, you know, honorable, noble. He’ll cure cancer one day or something monumental like that. And he’s always happy; he’ll never get you down. He’s sweet to you all the time, constantly showering you with affection and compliments. He’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted like your dream house that you can decorate however you want and the nicest car money can buy. And he’ll take you on lavish vacations all across the globe. And you can be normal with him and raise a couple kids. And he’ll be the greatest dad to your children. He’ll do the dishes and he’ll never complain about helping out around the house. And all other women will cease to be sexual creatures after he meets you, because he’ll have you and that will be enough.” He finished and smiled halfheartedly at you. A beat passed before you could find the words to respond.

“You’re an idiot, Sam.”

He frowned and shook his head before looking down at his hands. You glanced in the rear-view mirror. Dean appeared to have fallen asleep across the backseat.

“No, Sam, seriously. Can you not see that if you take the things I don’t even want out of that scenario, what’s left is you?”

Sam scoffed.

“I don’t want a house. I love living in the bunker. I don’t want someone who’s always happy. It’s not normal and it would be like living with a robot. The only car I ever want to drive for the rest of my life is the Impala. I don’t want to raise kids, though if I did, you’d be the greatest father to them and I’m certain of that. You are nice to everyone. You do shower me constantly with affection and compliments. I’ve never known someone as sweet as you. Or as good. You’ve spent your entire life fighting evil and saving people for crying out loud, Sam. Monumental? You overpowered Lucifer to prevent the impending god-damn apocalypse! I’m sorry the world can’t know that. I really, truly am. I want to tell everyone I meet that you saved them. Everyone I pass in the streets, I want them to know I’m dating the guy who’s the reason we’re all still here. I hate it. I know you don’t care about that but I’d give anything to see a statue devoted to your work. And you are smart, Sam. You got into Stanford! You were going to go to law school! And you think of all these clever things to make hunting easier that no other hunters have ever thought of. Like recording the exorcising incantation? All you. You’re so noble that Captain freaking America would probably solute you. And I can’t comment on how you see other women but I do know that I can’t recall ever seeing you notice another woman in a way that hurt me. And being cheated on by you is, honestly, not even a concern I have because I’m completely sure that you never would.”

Sam stared at you, his expression was blank but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. You could imagine him rationalizing it now. _“I’ve convinced her I’m this great hero. It’s a lie. She doesn’t know the evil that’s inside me. She believes the lie.”_

“I’m sorry. It’s your birthday. I don’t want to argue on your birthday. I don’t know what I was thinking even bringing it up,” he said, hanging his head and glancing over at you. His eyes were so sad that you wanted to pull him to you and fix him with the magic of hugs and kisses.

“I love you, Sam,” you said with tears beginning to silently stream down your face as you concentrated on the road. “I fucking love you so fucking much that it hurts. It aches, Sam. And do you know what? I might not think of myself as highly as you do but I do actually love myself a lot and if I thought you weren’t worthy of me, I would not fucking be here right now. And if I’m as great as you say, then doesn’t my opinion of you count for something?”

“She’s right, ya know?” Dean said with a sigh as he sat up, the seat fabric creaking beneath him. Your brows knit together and you narrowed your eyes at him. He leaned against the front seat and rested his head on his folded arms. Your tears had stopped from the surprise but their trails were already drying on your skin which was still flushed. You kept glancing at Dean out of the corner of your eye. You’d forgotten he was back there.

“Sorry,” he said with a small smirk. “I know that was more of a lovers quarrel but you two were probably gonna have that argument for the entire 6 hours and I was already feeling like throwing myself out of the car.” You rolled your eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. You caught sight of Sam’s hand resting on the seat and reached out to grasp it in yours. He glanced over at you, his eyes hopeful. He had the vaguest hint of a smile on his lips. You gave him a small smile back then faced back toward the road, letting your face fall. You’d let it go for now but Sam’s self-esteem was going to continue to gnaw at your insides.

“Can we stop for breakfast?” Dean asked. “I’m starving.” 

“Dude, you ate the continental breakfast at the motel,” Sam reminded him with a tone of annoyance.

Dean made a whining sound. “But I’m hungry,” he said and pouted at you.

You glanced at Sam. “Well, we did forget to fill up on gas before we left.”

Sam sighed.

“Powdered donuts!” Dean exclaimed before flopping back against the seat.

“Okay, but we can’t keep stopping because I have plans for tonight and we’re not spending the entire day on the road,” Sam reminded the two of you for the umpteenth time that morning.

A few miles later you saw a sign for a gas station and pulled off at the exit. You parked the car and Dean wasted no time bounding out of his seat and inside.

You climbed out and shut the Impala door behind you. Suddenly, Sam was there, his hands on both of your hips as he searched your eyes. He walked you a few steps backwards until your back was molded against the side of the car. He pressed his body against yours and moved his hands to hold both sides of your face. He gazed into your eyes for a moment, smirking at your expression of confusion, and then eliminated the remaining space between you to press his lips hard against yours. You were surprised but wasted no time in kissing him back. You held the hem of his shirt in one hand and placed the other against his chest. His lips pulled at your bottom lip. He moved one hand down and held it where your neck met your shoulder but continued cupping your face with his other palm. You sucked in his bottom lip. He kissed you ferociously and powerfully. Part of you remembered that you were in public, in a gas station parking lot no less, but it was overpowered by the part of you that could only shout, “I love you,” with every nerve ending in your body. Several breathless minutes later he pulled his face back just half an inch and you both took deep breaths. His hair was hanging down around your face in curtains, shielding you.

He opened his eyes and watched with a smirk as you slowly opened your eyes, still recovering from the high of it. You bit at your lower lip, a physical sign that you missed his skin on yours. He began placing small kisses to your cheeks, exactly where your tears had dried.

“I love you and I’m an idiot and I’m sorry,” he said, letting his words spill out quickly. He began to kiss away the dried tears on the other cheek.

“If you’re going to kiss me like that every time you do something stupid then you should do more stupid things,” you said, still in a bit of a daze, worsened by the presence of his warm, wet lips on your cheek.

“I love you. And I’m an idiot. And I’m sorry,” he said again, this time more seriously. He pulled away to look you in the eyes. You furrowed your brows as you searched his face and thought about what he was telling you.

“I love you too, Sam. Always. And I’ll forgive you. As long as you promise to try to see in yourself the things that I see in you,” you said as you gazed meaningfully into his eyes. You could see his inner turmoil there. He was so smart and powerful and kindhearted, surely part of him was aware of how good he truly was. One day, somehow, you would find that part and you would help it heal the other parts.

He moved his face forward until his lips just grazed yours and the tip of his nose touched the innermost part of your cheek.

“I promise,” he whispered against your mouth. Without having to move any part of you but your lips, you pressed one gentle and short kiss to his mouth. You let your arms drop and he moved his hands down to hold your waist.

“Dudes,” Dean sighed in frustration. You both slowly turned your heads toward Dean. He was sitting on the hood of the car, eating his powdered donuts. He stood up and walked around to your side of the car. His fingers and lips were caked in powder. He stared you both down with an expression of contempt. Sam’s hands slipped from your waist and he took a small step back. You stood up straight, peeling yourself from the side of the car.

“Come on,” Dean cried in exasperation, still covered in powdered sugar.

Sam snickered and you clasped your hand over your mouth, stifling your laughter.

Dean’s face fell and he looked confused.

“What?” he grunted.

“You have some… donut powder on you…,” you answered between snickers.

Dean began wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and then jutted out his chin, “Did I get it all?”

You leaned over and wiped away the remaining spots with your thumb before wiping it off on his black t-shirt, leaving a white, powdery streak across his upper chest.

“Thanks,” he said sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at you. He fixed his face back into an expression of frustration.

“You two are friggin’ ridiculous. One second you’re fighting, the next second you’re making out harder than I’ve ever made out with anyone in public. And that is saying something,” he said, jutting up his top lip in a disdainful sort of way. But his wide eyes gave you the impression that he was actually a little impressed, though he’d never admit it.

You and Sam exchanged bashful glances before shrugging at Dean apologetically. He rolled his eyes and shook his head before brushing past you to get in the car.

“Hey,” you called after him. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” You gently tossed the keys at him. He caught them easily in his powdery hand. “Will you fill up the car?” you asked, smiling innocently. Dean rolled his eyes and tossed his bag of donuts on the backseat but didn’t argue. He shifted the keys to his other hand and began dusting his fingers off on his already dirty shirt.

“Dudes, no more making out!” he shouted as you made your way inside. You turned back to him and smirked as you held the door open for Sam. Dean hung his head and grumbled as he got in the car to move it to a gas pump.

The rest of the ride home remained fairly uneventful. There were sing-a-long’s, as usual. There was Sam’s arm stretched across the back of the seat, gently holding you. There was Dean snoring. There was discussion on music and movies. Dean and Sam took the opportunity to talk about past hunts. Several times they each had to stop the other from exaggerating the size or strength of the monster and the harshness of wounds received. And twice you’d had to stop them to tell them you’d heard that one before.

At one point, when Dean had just begun to doze off, Boston’s “Peace of Mind” came on the radio and you had shouted for him to wake up and turned up the volume. This was yours and Dean’s song.

When you were young, your family would sing the words as “All I want is to have my piece of pie”. Where this started, you couldn’t know but you’d accepted it as accurate. Not until the song came on one day about a year ago while in the car with Sam and Dean, who glanced at you with deeply confused expressions as you sang along, and asked what you were saying, did you realize those weren’t, in fact, the words to the song. Dean, of course, liked it much better your way and would now sing it with you at the top of his lungs every time he heard it.

 _“I understand about indecision. But I don’t care if I get behind. People livin’ in competition. All I want is to have my piece of piiiiiiie!”_ The two of you sang loudly and in Dean’s case, off key. Sam just watched the two of you with a smile on his face the whole time, occasionally letting out a laugh.

With another rousing rendition of “Piece of Pie” under your belt, you crossed the border from Nebraska to Kansas and knew you were minutes from home.

“Uh, Toto, I think we’re in Kansas,” you said, laughing at your own joke. Sam raised an eyebrow at you.

“Well, I think I’m funny and that’s what counts,” you said, pouting.

“Of course, honey,” he said, smiling reassuringly and squeezed your farthest shoulder. You shot him a glare and he chuckled.

“So, are we on time for your _plans_?” you asked in an acerbic tone.

“Very on time. I thought we’d leave for dinner at about six o'clock. So we have… what? Four hours to get ready?” Sam said cheerfully.

“Gee, I’m not sure four hours will be enough time,” you said, biting at your bottom lip, pretending to be worried. You gunned the gas just a touch and Sam laughed as you rounded the corner home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked it! Please leave a comment letting me know what you thought! 
> 
> Chapter 3 coming soon!


	3. In Polite Company

As six o’clock approached you were in your room getting ready. Twinkle lights hung from the edge of the ceiling on the two far walls of your room. They were casting your room in a warm glow. You were checking yourself out in the floor length mirror. Sam had caved and told you where you’d be having dinner after you told him you couldn’t possibly pick an outfit without knowing where you were going. Lenny’s, a not-so-local pizza place that happened to be your favorite pizza in the country, was a fairly casual place but had the appearance of being upscale. It was dimly lit and could be romantic at night, save for the way patrons voices echoed off the walls. You had chosen a dark blue dress that flared out just a touch at the waist and had a flowery, black lace overlay that created a sheer neckline and extended down to your elbows. You accented the outfit with a silver leather, braided belt and matching flats. You squinted at your reflection in the mirror as you considered whether it was too dressy. 

Sam stood in your doorway and knocked at the open door to get your attention. You spun around and grinned at him. He smiled back at you as he walked in and stopped just short of reaching you.

“If I come any closer, I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing you and I don’t think you want me messing up your makeup before we’ve even left,” he said as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

You smiled and then looked him up and down. He was wearing a newer button-up shirt. It was blue and grey plaid and he tucked it into one of his nicer pairs of jeans which he belted with a brown leather belt you’d bought for him.

“It’s not fair,” you pouted. “All you have to do is tuck in your shirt and wear a nice belt.”

“I also buttoned my sleeves at the wrist,” he countered. You rolled your eyes and reached your arms out to place your hands on his chest.

“You look really good,” you said with a grin.

“Not half as good as you,” he said, sounding a bit breathless. “So, you’re smiling. Does that mean you’re getting excited about this?” he asked, hopeful.

“I’m excited about hanging out with you and Dean. The birthday part… not so much.”

“Well, that’s better than nothing,” he said, nodding slightly. “You ready?”

"I think so. Is this too dressy?" you asked, turning back to the mirror to contemplate the outfit once again.

"No," Sam answered, drawing out the word in a way that told you you were being ridiculous. "I like the dress! Please don’t change." He stood just behind you, you looked at his reflection standing over you in the mirror and gave him a half-smile as you gripped the skirt of your dress and swung it back and forth. 

He grinned back at you but his jaw and lips were tight and you could tell he was fighting the urge to pull you to him. “Dean’s waiting by the car, I think. We better go.” He was holding his eyes on yours, reflected in the mirror. 

"Okay, just help me choose a necklace,” you said as you turned away from him and the mirror and walked over to your dresser. You opened the jewelry box that was placed on top and pulled two chains out, holding them up for Sam to see. He bit his lower lip as he thought.

“That one,” he said, pointing to the silver necklace with a small star shaped charm alongside a skeleton key charm. You grinned. It was your favorite necklace. You slipped it over your head and pulled your hair out so that it could lay flat around your neck. You grabbed your purse that you’d already filled with essentials (lipstick, mascara, I.D., holy water, a small knife, a gun and a credit card) and slipped it over your shoulder as Sam tugged at your arm and pulled you to the hallway.

Dean was leaning against the car when you met him outside.

“Wanna drive?” he asked as he raised his eyebrows at you and tucked his chin in to his chest.

“Oh boy. I appreciate the consideration but I’ve definitely had my fill of driving,” you said. Dean smirked. “For at least a day,” you added smartly. Dean’s face fell and his shoulders slumped slightly as he pulled the door open and climbed in. Sam chuckled as the two of you climbed in the backseat. He pulled you close to him as Dean drove away from the bunker. Dean pressed a tape into the cassette player and the opening chords of “Thunderstruck” began vibrating through the speakers.

Lebanon was a small place so dining out meant driving nearly an hour out of town, but if there was anything you were used to, it was sitting in the car. That was about fifty percent of your life since you met Sam and Dean.

“I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look,” Sam whispered in your ear. He wrapped his arm around your waist and rested his hand on your hip. You turned your face toward his.

“Not in so many words,” you whispered with a smirk forming on your lips. He ran his thumb down your jawline while his eyes traced your face. The guitar wailed around you as voices chanted, “Thunder!” This was maybe the least romantic song in existence but if that didn’t completely embody your relationship, nothing did.

“You look so beautiful that every part of me is saying to ditch dinner and just lock ourselves in your room for the entire night,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Dean was drumming the steering wheel and bobbing his head but he kept glancing in the rear view mirror.

“I think I’d prefer that,” you said in a hushed tone. Sam laughed quietly as he ran his hand slowly up and down your side.

Dean cleared his throat loudly and you saw him glance pointedly at you and Sam in the mirror.

“Yes, Dean?” you asked, not moving a centimeter.

“Sorry, it’s just…” he shrugged his shoulders as he made eye contact with you in the mirror. You arched your eyebrows at him, urging him to continue.

“Kinda feeling like your limo driver or somethin’ right now.”

“Limo drivers don’t usually play AC/DC, Dean,” you said with a light chuckle.

“Oh, you don’t like the music?” he asked, slightly concerned. “Sorry. It’s your birthday. We can listen to whatever you want. Did you bring your iPod?” He reached for the stop button but you leaned forward to grab his shoulder before he could reach it.

“No! No, no. The music’s fine, Dean. It’s great.” You released him but rested your arms and chin against the back of the front seat. Sam rubbed your back gently.

“I’m sorry. I never want you to feel that way, not even for a second.” You spoke in a hushed tone, like it was some kind of secret. Dean glanced at you out of the side of his eye and gave you a small smirk.

“All’s forgiven, sweetheart,” he said, matching your volume. You smiled at him and patted his shoulder gently before leaning back into Sam’s open arm. You rested your head against his chest as he wrapped his arm around you and you both smiled at each other. You turned your head so that you were looking at the road.

“Dean, greatest guitarist of all time: Duane Allmann, Eric Clapton or Jimmy Page?” you asked in an effort to spark an inclusive conversation.

“Are you serious? If you’re serious I will pull this car over right now!” Dean shouted. “Eric Clapton… Duane Allmann…” he scoffed under his breath. “No one holds a candle to Jimmy! For god’s sake…” You giggled and you felt Sam’s chest shudder beneath you as he laughed, too.

* * *

“Three?” the hostess asked, grabbing several menus from the top of a stack.

“Uh, four actually,” Sam corrected her. “Not sure when he’ll be here though,” he said and glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a smile twitching up his lips.

“Cas is coming?” you asked cheerfully and pulled on Sam’s hand like a small child. He laughed and smiled down at you as the hostess counted four menus.

She led you through the crowded tables to a booth just off the middle of the dining area and the three of you scooted in to your seats. Just as she left, Cas appeared, seated in the booth next to Dean. The three of you jumped slightly, though your nerves were basically shot from his shenanigans at this point.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean cursed under his breath as he looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No one was screaming or pointing and staring so it seemed you were off the hook.

“Sorry, I got here early so I chose to stay invisible until you arrived,” Cas explained.

“The less human interaction, the better,” you said, nodding your head.

“Precisely,” Cas said curtly, looking at you. His mouth broke into a small grin. “Happy Birthday, y/n.”

“Thank you, Cas,” you said gratefully and placed your hand over his, giving it a small squeeze before releasing it. “I have something for you,” he said as he searched his jacket pockets.

“No, Cas. We don’t do presents now,” Sam said, correcting him as if he were breaking some widespread Birthday rule.

“Oh,” Cas said, halting his search and looking up, puzzled.

“That’s not a rule. We’re just doing it that way for y/n’s Birthday. Cake and presents and a movie at the bunker,” Dean explained.

“Gotcha,” Cas said in his gruff voice. It was a word he’d learned somewhere along the way but never failed to sound amusing coming from him.

After ordering drinks you excused yourself from the table and slipped away under the guise of needing to wash your hands. When you were sure Sam couldn’t see you, you found your waiter as he was just about to enter the kitchen and called after him. He turned around, surprised.

“Sorry to bother you, Trent. I was wondering, do you guys do something for birthday’s?”

“Oh, sure, we sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and you get a free desert,” he said with that cheery smile everyone in the service industry seemed to learn after a few weeks on the job. Trent was an old pro at it.

“Well, you see, it’s my boyfriend’s birthday. He’s probably going to find you and tell you it’s my birthday but that’s only because he doesn’t want anyone to sing to him,” you explained. Trent looked a little unsure. You were going to have to bribe him. “If you sing to him instead, I’ll make sure you get a thirty percent tip,” you added, breaking out into persuasive grin and rocking your shoulders slightly.

“You take this birthday thing seriously,” he said, surprised by your offer. “But you have yourself a deal.” He cracked a smile. “What’s his name?”

“Sam. And when he finds you, no mention of this,” you reminded. He nodded at you and rushed off to the kitchen. You went to bathroom and when you got back to the table, Sam was gone, no doubt tracking down Trent. When he got back he was grinning just a bit too widely. You stood up and let him get back to his seat. You eyed him suspiciously once he was sitting comfortably.

“What?” he asked, playing dumb.

“Mhmm,” you said, with a small glare, causing everyone to laugh.

You ordered your pizzas and ate while laughing and blushing as Sam, Dean and Cas exchanged stories about you. Your favorites were the ones where you’d saved their asses from a tight spot or kept them from being screwed by a clever witch or artifact dealer. How had they survived without you? Sheer dumb-luck, no doubt.

“Remember that time we had to take Sam to the hospital because he broke his arm and while he was sleeping, you and I raced wheelchairs down the hallway?” Dean asked, laughing at the memory.

“Oh my god, that was so bad,” you groaned and hung your face in your hands. “We almost got kicked out!”

“Please, with my charm? Have I ever been kicked out?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Yes,” you and Sam chorused defiantly.

“Of almost every town we’ve ever been in!” Sam added.

“That nurse yelled at us the entire time we walked down the hallway and even once the elevator doors closed, I could still hear her yelling…,” you added, still horrified by the memory. The three of them laughed and Sam rubbed your back.

Trent appeared and asked if he could clear any of the plates.

“I think we’re all done,” Sam said, grinning, assuming your torture was imminent. Trent smiled and began clearing away the plates.

“So, are we ready for that birthday dessert?” he asked, smirking at you.

“I think so,” Sam said, still grinning. He turned to Cas and asked him about a collector they’d been trying to get in contact with for a case as you nodded at the waiter. He winked at you before rushing off, arms piled high with dirty dishes. Cas and Sam missed the exchange but Dean narrowed his eyes at you. You smiled mischievously back. Dean shook his head and pretended to be listening to Sam and Cas.

Just a few minutes later the entire staff of waiters began marching toward your booth as your waiter led them, carrying a slice of chocolate cake. Sam smirked at you and wrapped his arm tightly around your waist. You briefly wondered if you should feign nerves but decided to just smile back at him. He looked surprised for a brief second but brushed it off.

The waiters crowded around your table as Trent lit the sparkling candle. He set down the plate and slid it in front of Sam as you mouthed, _“Sing to Sam!”_ to Cas and Dean. Dean’s mouth broke into a giant grin and he tried not to laugh noticeably. Cas looked confused so Dean cupped his hand around his mouth and explained it to Cas as the waiters started singing.

_“Happy Birthday to you!”_ Sam sang while looking at you, apparently unaware that everyone else was looking at him.

_“Happy Birthday to you!”_ You sang along this time, chuckling softly while singing. Sam furrowed his brow at you and then glanced up to see that the waiters and Cas and Dean were all looking at him. He cocked his head to the side as he looked back at you. He looked a little amazed that you would have even thought to do this.

_“Happy Birthday dear, Sam,”_ you all sang, muffling out his singing of your name. His face fell and his shoulders hunched slightly as he finally stopped singing and stared at you. You had to sing the last line through your laughter.

_“Happy Birthday to you!”_ They finished and everyone clapped, including you. A few of the waiters and Dean cheered. Sam rolled his eyes and reluctantly blew out the candle as everyone continued clapping. He smiled half-heartedly to the waiters and the surrounding tables that had joined in and thanked them with an embarrassed look in his eyes. Trent winked at you again before turning to follow the other waiters, now retreating, to get back to work. Dean, Cas and you were laughing hysterically, though you were the only one making an attempt to stifle it. You squeezed Sam’s hand under the table.

“Ha ha ha, very funny,” Sam said, slightly annoyed. He rolled his eyes again but leaned over to kiss you on the cheek anyway. You felt the heat rise to your face immediately. Before he could pull away you slipped your arm over his shoulder and held him there, close to you, as you turned your face toward his. You grazed your fingers along the back of his neck as they traveled up to tangle in his long hair. You noticed his breaths becoming rapid. You took a moment to study his slightly agape mouth and curious eyes and then you leaned forward just slightly. He puckered his mouth as you gently pressed your lips against his. You kissed him slowly and gently, neither of you made any effort to pull the other closer, though. You were painfully aware of Dean and Cas’s uncomfortable stares and soon you both pulled back, mostly out of politeness for those around you. You mashed your lips between your teeth as you turned back to face Cas and Dean. Sam bit down softly on his lower lip.

“Is it always like this for you?” Cas asked Dean, without looking away from you and Sam.

“Oh, that was tame,” he said with a bitter smile while lacing his fingers on the table and twiddling his thumbs.

“Come on, we’re not that bad,” Sam defended.

“In public? No, you’re not usually that bad. But the moaning and the screaming and the giggling and the shouting of each others name’s, which happens at all hours of the day and night, sometimes five minutes after I’ve left the room, well, let’s just say my ears are sore from all the headphone wearing I gotta do,” Dean said. You bit your bottom lip and swallowed hard as you felt your face flush furiously. You glanced at Sam who was scowling at Dean and you found his hand under the table, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down.

“What?” Dean asked defensively. “You two are like rabbits. I mean, you’d think over a year in, things would’ve slowed down but geez man, it’s like you’re making up for all the days you missed out on or something. Seriously, I think the other day it was four times in _one day_ , dude.”

Sam’s scowl intensified as he squeezed your hand tightly. This might actually end in a fight.

“That’s just great,” Cas said, grinning. The tension immediately deflated as you all turned to Cas, your faces twisted with confusion “There were times I wondered if no one would be able to love Sam as deeply as Dean does so this is wonderful. I’m so happy for you two.” He grasped your hand that was resting on the table and gave it a gentle squeeze before he released it.

“Uh… thanks, Cas…” you said hesitantly as you glanced between him and Sam, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.

“I, uh… yeah, thanks, Cas,” Sam said. “I think.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Cas asked, his brows furrowed.

“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was just… unexpected,” Sam explained before he turned his attention to you. “I can’t freaking believe you did that!” he said with his eyebrows raised, fighting his smile.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but you should have seen your face! Oh man, it was so perfect,” you said, beginning to laugh all over again.

“I told him it was your birthday and he gave me no hint that something was up. What did you do, pay him off?” he asked with amusement.

“Well, there was the promise of payment, yes,” you divulged arrogantly and twirled your wrist. Sam had that look in his eye. That one he got whenever you surprised him. It was something akin to awe. If you were home it would mean he’d rush you off to one of your rooms and you’d spend several hours tangled together, every part of you pressed against his as he expressed his admiration physically. You were quite confident that he didn’t know how to bottle that emotion so you helped him by turning your attention to Cas and Dean. Sam seemed to suddenly remember that they were still there and he turned to face them, too.

You scooted closer to Sam all the same, though, and lifted his arm over your head to rest it on your shoulder. You secretly pecked a little kiss to his chest as you nuzzled into him before turning back to face across the table. He pressed his lips to the top of your head and you squeezed his hand.

“Oh!” you said, sitting up slightly straighter but still pressed into Sam. “My cake!” You pulled the plate closer to you, picked up the fork and began cutting yourself a bite.

“I believe that is, in fact, my cake,” Sam corrected you as you placed the bite in your mouth.

“Mmm,” you sighed, pulling the fork slowly out of your mouth. “It’s my birthday,” you argued, your mouth full of cake. He chuckled and reached for the fork.

“They didn’t sing to you, they sang to me,” Sam countered before eating his bite of cake.

“Because I told them to.” You stole your fork back and took another bite.

“Thereby surrendering the cake to me,” Sam said smugly. He was about to steal the fork back when Dean reached across the table and took it from you before you could get a good grip on it.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you idiots,” Dean said as he furrowed his brows at you. He grabbed the edge of the plate and picked it up, holding it close to his face.

“Cake…” you said, pouting.

Sam shot Dean a glare as he grinned and cut himself a bite. Sam turned to you, looking sympathetic.

“I could jump across the table and make a play for the cake. It will probably go flying across the room and land on someone else’s table, but I’ll do it! Or we can surrender and eat the cake that’s at home,” he offered. “Or I can get really mad and beat him up,” he added with a little too much excitement in his voice. You made a whining sound.

“But… cake.”

“Does that mean you want me to beat him up?”

“No…,” you groaned. “But I was going to offer you some, Dean. Just so you know.”

“That wasn’t the point,” Dean said as he scraped the icing, already the only thing left, off the plate with the fork. “You two were getting annoying, and honestly, a little too cutesy. You had to be stopped,” he said with a shrug. “And maybe it crossed my mind that in all that back and forth you were gonna eat the whole thing just to spite each other.”

“Dean! You didn’t offer any cake to Cas!” you scolded him.

Dean scrunched his face at you. “Cas doesn’t even like to eat!”

“I’m fine, y/n. Really, it’s okay,” Cas reassured you. “Of course, in polite company, you still offer food to people who don’t eat but really, it’s okay.”

Dean glared down his nose at him but Cas just continued to smile at you. Idiots. The lot of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying the story so far! 1-2 more chapters left and then I'll be wrapping up and moving to a new story ;) 
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought!


	4. Abundance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gifts are given, embarrassing stories are revealed and one heartbreaking admission...

When you finally made it back home to the bunker you were led by Sam to the living room. To your surprise, someone had hung up streamers of your favorite colors and one of those lettered banners that said, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”. There were even matching balloons tethered to the end tables.

  
“You guys,” you whispered as you took in the room. You turned around to look at all of them. “This is amazing. Who did this?” It might have seemed like a small gesture to most people but it took you back to the birthday's you'd had as a kid, when your mom would gripe at your dad to make sure the streamers and signs were all hung just perfectly and the cake was ordered weeks in advance and everything was just... happy.

  
“All of us, actually,” Sam said, grinning and tucking his hands into his pockets. Dean gave you a small smile and shrugged one shoulder.

  
“Cas was in charge of balloons, Dean and I went out and bought the sign and streamers and we all hung it up while you were getting ready.”

  
“Oh man, what I would give to have seen that. Was there bickering? I'd love to see you two bicker about balloons and streamers. Seriously, this is perfect. Thank you.” You took the few steps to reach them and pulled Sam and Dean into a hug, their heads grazed either side of yours as you embraced them and patted their backs. “Cas get over here,” you ordered as you released the brothers. Cas approached you tentatively and you quickly stepped to him to pull him into a warm hug.

  
“It was only balloons,” he muttered, but you could hear that he was smiling.

  
“I love them. They're wonderful balloons, Cas,” you said softly. You grinned at him as you stepped back and looked over to Sam. “So, what now?”

  
“Well, first I think presents. And then cake while we watch Y/F/Movie. I assumed that's what you'd want to watch. Is that what you want to watch?” Sam asked while nodding his head slightly and taking a step to close the distance between you.

  
“You know me so well, Sam.” You gave him a small smile as you glanced up at him. He took a deep breath while staring into your eyes and then shook his head and chuckled lightly.

  
“Stop being so irresistible, would ya?” he said through gritted teeth before turning to face the rest of the room. “Alright. Dean? Music?”

  
“On it.” Dean said before he happily strode off to find the remote to the stereo.

  
“If it's okay with you I'm going to put on some comfy clothes,” you said to Sam.

  
“What do I look like, a sea captain or something,” Sam joked.

  
You huffed. "I mostly asked so that if you wanted to take a final mental note of me all dolled up, you'd have the chance, because it's gonna be awhile before this happens again,” you explained with a smirk. Sam smiled as you took a few steps back from him, holding his gaze the entire time. You put your arm over your head and twirled slowly. As you came back around to face Sam, you reached down and gathered the edge of your skirt into a fist and shook it theatrically before squeezing your arms together in front of you and bending over slightly, your cleavage an added bonus to your Marilyn-like pose.

Sam looked stunned.

“You're too much,” he finally managed as you neared the doorway. You turned your head and smirked at him out of the side of your mouth as you continued on your way.

Once in your room you quickly pulled off your shoes and the belt, unzipped the dress and slipped it off. It felt like you could breath again. Not that the dress had been tight, but there was something about a nice dress that made you feel like you constantly had to have perfect posture and manners and makeup and it made it hard to think about anything else. You put the dress back on it's hanger so it wouldn't get wrinkled, and put the shoes and belt back in their spot in your closet. You bent over and shook your hair out, loosening it from the hair-sprayed style you'd chosen. You opened your dresser and eyed a pair of comfy, cotton shorts but instead reached for your favorite jeans. Unfortunately you couldn't go into total slob mode, not yet. You found a comfortable but cute shirt hanging in the closet and pulled it on before padding back to the living room, barefoot. It was your birthday, they could get over your lack of shoes.

Sam was seated on the sofa while Cas sat in one of the arm chairs, his trench folded over the back of it. You noticed as you sat next to Sam, that he'd taken off his shoes and tucked them under the coffee table and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He smiled over at you as you tucked your leg beneath you. You smiled back at him as you leaned into his side, he snaked his arm around you, tangling his fingers with yours.

The opening bars of one of your favorite songs began softly playing through the speakers. Dean took a seat in his recliner, opposite side of the coffee table from Cas. He'd made efforts to get comfy too; losing his jacket, boots and button-up shirt, which left him in his black t-shirt, jeans and white tube socks.

  
“You have this on your ipod, Dean?” you asked, surprised.

“No,” he said defensively. “I thought you'd want to listen to your music so I plugged in your iPod.”

“Thanks, Dean,” you said through your beaming grin. He shook his head but smiled all the same.

“I'll go first,” Cas said with a smile as he fished a small package out of his inside breast pocket and handed it to you. It was a small, ornately carved, wooden box. He'd wrapped ribbon around it and tied it in a haphazard bow on top.

“The bow was a little-”

“Shh,” you hushed him as you admired the intricate carvings.

“The box isn't the gift, y/n. The gift is inside,” he said as he reached for it, wanting to open it for you. You yanked it away from his grasp.

“I'm getting there...” you murmured as you marveled at the intricate carvings. They were ancient and you made a mental note to date them and trace their origins. You pulled lightly at one of the strings and the bow fell apart. You slipped the ribbon off the box, pulled up on the clasp and lifted the lid. Inside was a bracelet with a thin, gold band. It had two cloudy, white beads on either side of a dangling, bright blue, Evil Eye pendant. You lifted it and noted that it looked very old and handmade.

“That's a real Nazar talisman. It was made and blessed in ancient Mesopotamia by a very powerful Priestess and will provide you with a small degree of protection,” Cas explained. You slipped it over your hand and admired it on your wrist. It was beautiful.

“Nazar?” Sam asked.

“More colloquially known as the Evil Eye.” You and Sam nodded in understanding

“You're sure it's safe?” Dean asked

Cas almost looked hurt. “I wouldn't give it to her if I wasn't,” he stated, his tone biting. He started to glare at Dean but his eyes caught yours for a second and he seemed to quell his anger as he attempted to give Dean a reassuring smile.

“Hey, I'm just saying, man. We've dealt with things likes this before. Magic always comes at a price. Even you've said that.”

“This is greater power than _magic_ , Dean. This is more than the trivial junk you've come across. I've had this in my possession for thousands of years. I wouldn't give Y/N something if I thought there was even a small chance that it could turn bad.” He was staring Dean down with narrowed eyes, his lips pursed, clearly offended.

“Alright, alright. Calm down. As long as you're sure,” Dean said raising his hands in surrender.

“Thank you, Cas. I love it,” you said, ignoring Dean and smiling at Cas. You stood up and put your arms out, waiting for him.

“You're in a very hugging kind of mood,” he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms around you. You turned your head and gently pressed a kiss to his cheek. You felt the muscles in his face lift as he smiled. You released him and you both sat back down. Cas was smiling unabashedly.

“Thanks, Cas. If it will protect Y/N then it's kind of a gift to me, too,” Sam commented. Cas smiled at him. “What exactly does it do?”

“If anyone is attacking the wearer, it makes them hard to see. The attackers eyes won't be able to focus around her so she can attack them or get away more easily,” he explained.

“Geez, talk about the upper hand,” Dean said. “We're no longer keeping score. You have an unfair advantage.”

“You've always had the unfair advantage of a lifetime of experience but you never heard me complain, did ya?” You retorted.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I did. Frequently. And sometimes loudly.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes as if it were the most ridiculous notion. You turned back to Cas and told him to continue his explanation.

“It won't work on humans. Only monsters and demons. I haven't tested it on angels but I would assume, knowing this Priestess as I did, she'd ward them off, too,” Cas continued.

“Ooh, a spurned lover?” You teased.

“Not of mine but one of my sisters. She... did a number on her.”

“Promise you'll tell me the whole story some day?” you begged.

“Of course,” he answered with a grin.

 

“Dean, your turn,” Sam said, turning to his brother.

“Okay, well, I didn't wrap it.” He was fiddling with something in his pocket as he stood up and pulled it out. It was small and silver and dangling. He leaned over the table and placed it in your outstretched palm and then sat next to Sam on the couch, leaning forward to see your face better. You pulled your hand closer to your face as you examined it. It was a silver key with a silver key chain of the Millennium Falcon. You looked over to Dean, perplexed.

“I already have a key to the bunker, Dean.”

“I know that.”

“Then what is this a key to?”

“Well, do you remember what you called the Impala the first time you rode in it?”

Your eyes grew wide as you understood. The first time you'd rode in the Impala had been after nearly a year in purgatory with Dean. He'd told you thousands of stories about Sam and Dean and the car and their hunts. The first time you finally got to see it, you remarked that you'd built it up in your mind as if it were the Millennium Falcon. Some legendary thing you never thought you'd actually lay eyes on, a thing that could never live up to expectation. Except it completely did. It was as loud and fast and beautiful and welcoming as you imagined.

“The Impala?” you asked as if in a daze. He grinned and nodded. You climbed across Sam to reach Dean and tackle him with a vice like hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed as Dean happily hugged you back, squeezing you tightly in his arms as Sam and Cas chuckled.

“It's just a key, okay? I'm not _giving_ you the car!”

You pulled back and settled yourself between Sam and Dean.

“If you were giving me the car, I'd have you checked into an institution,” you joked. “No, I know what it symbolizes. It means a lot to me. Thank you,” you said, smiling at him gratefully.

“I don't even have one of those,” Sam pouted.

“What? Sure you do,” Dean said, furrowing his brow.

“No... we had a copy made but then we got in a fight about something and you never gave it to me,” Sam answered with a shake of his head. “I've always just had to use yours.”

“Well... share that one,” Dean said with an innocent grin. You quickly hugged your key to your chest.

“No way. Get your own, Sam.”

Dean chuckled loudly and gripped your knee for support while Sam frowned at you.

“So, if the Impala is the Millennium Falcon, does that make Y/N Leia? And if it does, which of you is Han and Luke? And who am I?” Cas contemplated aloud. Sam looked perplexed while you and Dean actually thought about the question.

“I'm obviously Solo,” Dean answered confidently.

“But Leia and Han end up together,” you said, scrunching up your face in disgust.

“Would you rather be dating your brother?” Dean asked, arching his brows at you and pursing his lips. “'Cause Sam's obviously Luke.”

“I guess I lose either way,” you said with your face still scrunched up.

“Dean does share a great deal of the rogue-like qualities that Han Solo exemplifies. And Sam is righteous and good but struggles with the dark side, similar to Luke.” Sam narrowed his eyes at this but then seemed to concede with a shrug and a slight nod of his head. “But I've changed my mind about Y/N. She's not necessarily Leia by default of them both being the only females of the groups. Actually, I think you're more like Artoo.”

“You think I'm the short robot who can't speak instead of the smart, sexy chick?” you asked, your eyes wide and your eyebrows raised half way up your forehead. Dean and Sam clapped their hands over their mouths to stifle their giggles.

“It's nothing to do with looks, Y/N. Leia is more somber. And she helps fight, sure, but as soon as the guys show up, she steps aside to let them take over. You'd never do that. You and Artoo are both excitable and resourceful with an adventurous streak. You're both brave and who I'd want to have on my side in any fight,” Cas explained, giving you a hesitant smile as he finished. You smiled back and were about to respond when Sam cut you off.

“Don't worry, hon. You're totally Leia,” Sam reassured you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“Really?” you asked as you glanced up at him. “'Cause I was actually going to agree with Cas. Leia's... kinda lame when you really get down to it. Or, I guess I should say she was more political... strategic. That's not really me... or any hunter.”

Sam hesitated as he contemplated the best way to navigate this potential minefield. “Oh, well... sure. I completely agree, too. I just said that because I thought you _wanted_ to be Leia.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Just say it. You'd rather be in love with Leia than Artoo. I won't hold it against you, Sam. She's the male fantasy.” You waved your hand matter-of-factly.

“No, no, no,” Sam said, shaking his head and frowning slightly at you. “What I want to be in love with is a girl who's got the personality of Artoo and the outsides of Leia and- Oh, hey! That's exactly what I got.” He smirked down at you and then leaned over to plant a hard, wet kiss to your temple as you stared up at him, surprised by his smooth recovery.

Dean was staring at you both with his eyebrows arched high on his forehead as he shook his head minutely.

“I-” you began, but hesitated when you realized you were a little speechless. “Okay, that was smooth and I haven't recovered yet.” You smiled at him and shook your head. Sam laughed and squeezed your shoulder where his hand was resting as he leaned down and gave your temple another warm kiss.

“It still freaks me out that Cas has all this pop culture knowledge now. Remember having to explain all our references to him? I kinda miss that,” Dean commented with a slight frown.

“This is quicker, though,” Sam pointed out.

“Is Cas Chewy?” you wondered aloud. Sam and Dean leaned back slightly as they sized Cas up and thought about it for a moment. You squinted your eyes as you contemplated the similarities and differences between Cas and Chewbacca.

“He's like a mix of Threepio and Chewy,” Sam said with his eyes narrowed in contemplation.

“Oh my goodness, yes! That's Cas exactly!” you shouted as you thrust your finger in the air excitedly. Cas sat quiet, his hands steepled in front of him as he thought about Sam's conclusion.

Dean snickered. “Yeah, I wasn't gonna say Threepio because he's too much of a ninny but you can be really Threepio-y sometimes. You're just way more intimidating. That would be the Chewy side.”

“Well, at least I'm not a ninny,” Cas said with a shrug.

“You and me, Cas. Always the sidekick, never the hero,” you said with an overt frown.

He nodded his head at you. “Less stress, though,” he said with a shrug.

“No way, the sidekick's job is way more stressful. We always gotta make sure these two idiots aren't getting into some mess that'll get 'em killed. And that whole self-sacrificing thing... Yeesh. It'll do my heart in one of these days.” You leaned back against the couch and stretched your arms out behind Sam and Dean, clapping your hands on their backs.

“Oh come on, that's why you love us,” Dean said, grinning out of the side of his mouth, and gently elbowed you in the ribs.

“Well, I guess in a way that's technically true. That vamp could've killed you when you jumped in his way to save me. Of course, you probably had a plan to fight him off and didn't think you might actually die so is it really self-sacrificing?”

Dean hesitated a moment as he looked at you and your teasing grin. “I did, though,” he said after taking a deep breath. Your mind reeled as you thought back to the first time you'd met Dean... when he saved you... You'd been grateful for his help at the time but that he might have died to save you had never really occurred to you.

“You did?” you asked softly, your eyes were wide but soft and your eyebrows were raised. You pulled your arms out from behind Sam and Dean and crossed them in front of you as you leaned forward slightly, your head angled toward Dean. He was massaging his knuckles with his palm as he rested his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward too, so you were face to face. He inhaled deeply, his eyes focused on his hands.

“Any chance we can go back in time five seconds and pretend I never said that?”

“Of course we can, if that's what you want,” you said, speaking gently as though Dean were a fawn in a clearing who might dart away at the first sign of danger. Your eyes were still wide with the surprise of Dean's revelation and you bit at your bottom lip as you looked at him. Dean turned to look at you, one of his closest friends in the world, the girl he called his little sister, and without even trying or meaning to, your expression had him caving in.

He cleared his throat and shifted slightly. “Normally I think Sam will get me out of a hairy situation or I'll just survive, somehow, like I always do. Actually, I don't really think too much, usually. It's instinct. Jump in. Save the civilian at any cost. Not a lot of thought goes into that. But I'd been in purgatory about a month when I found you. Benny and I were getting a little sick of each other that day so he was trailing way behind me and I didn't think he'd heard you screaming or seen me run off in your direction. You were down a small hill in that little clearing. And those five vamps were on you and you were fighting them off pretty good,” he grinned at the memory.

“I had just taken one down when another one lunged at you from behind. You couldn't see it coming and there wasn't time to warn you and I saw his knife and I thought, _'If I jump in there, that knife's gonna go right through me. And Benny probably doesn't even know where I ran off to so he can't help. And I don't even know what happens to a soul when you die in purgatory but I'm sure Sam won't be able to bring me back from this.'_ And I couldn't even tell you were human but for some reason... I jumped in anyways. Maybe it was something about your determination to fight against those vamps or maybe it was just me doing what I'd always done, I don't know. And it was weird, you know? Because I remember thinking all this through and I still had time to jump in there, like it all froze for just a second. _'Save her,'_ was the last thing I thought.” You felt your eyes beginning to well up with tears as you looked at Dean, his eyes shifting between you and the now distant memory as he spoke.

“So I got in there, stopping his knife from slicing through you and I was ready for the pain. It should have tore right through me. But I guess I startled him and he pulled back, or maybe he saw Benny coming over the hill and hesitated, I don't know. As soon as I realized I wasn't gutted like I should have been, I was able to get right back in the fight and take him down. Then Benny reached us and the three of us took the rest out in less than a minute. Well, you remember that part,” he finished lamely and grinned gently at you.  
You sat for a moment, frozen, your eyes fixed on Dean's. You blinked slowly, not wanting your tears to spill over. Though it hardly mattered, Dean was close enough to easily see them pooling in your eyes. The room was quiet except for the music coming out of the stereo. No one moved. Or if they did, you didn't notice. Cas and Sam knew this wasn't their story to comment on and you were so grateful to have friends like that. Another beat passed before you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arm around his back, pulling him to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered in his ear and then turned your face as you nestled the side of your head to his neck. You wrapped your other arm around him, ensnaring his arms, and embraced him gently. “Thank you.”

With your arms wrapped around him, Dean couldn't move to hug you back. Instead, he turned his arm, hooking it over yours, and patted your shoulder a few times before resting his arm there. He didn't try to shrug it off or say that anyone would have done the same thing. For once, he knew what he'd done and he knew it was important. He wasn't going to argue with you so long as you didn't try to say thank you with a gift or a grand gesture. You being there to hug him was the only thanks he needed. You were a reminder that he'd chosen wisely and he knew he'd make the same choice again, a million times over if he had to, even if the outcome wouldn't always be so lucky.

Once you felt satisfied that your hug had passed along all the love, warmth and thanks you could possibly give, along to Dean, you took a deep breath and lifted your head, pulling away from him. “Thank you,” you whispered one last time as your mouth passed Dean's ear. He turned his head and grinned at you as you shifted on the couch, giving Dean some room.

Sam's hand found yours resting on your thigh and he held it gently. You turned to him and smiled meekly. His eyes were bright and gentle as he returned your smile. You glanced to Cas who was hunched over with his hands clasped together, staring at them. He sensed your eyes on him and he looked up expectantly, his eyes darted to Sam and Dean before finding your gaze and smiling reassuringly at you.

“So, uh... Sam?” you said, clearing the air in the room.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Should we start the movie?” you suggested.

“You don't want your present from me?” he asked with a smirk.

You grinned. “Well, I wasn't just gonna come right out and say, 'Hey man, give me my present!',” you joked in a false voice. Dean chuckled and Sam rolled his eyes but couldn't fight the smile on his lips. He got up and left the room. When he came back a few moments later, he was carrying an average sized box covered in jaunty wrapping paper that said “Happy Birthday!” and had explosions of confetti and balloons. You could just imagine him at the store picking out the one that would make you cringe the most. You let out a deep sigh at the thought.

He navigated around Cas's chair and the coffee table to take his seat on the couch and thrust the box into your hesitant arms. You were surprised by how light it was; it weighed almost nothing. You shook it slightly and could barely make out the sound of something grazing the cardboard. You gave him a pleading gaze.

“Just open it,” he sighed with a grin. You bit your lower lip and began tearing at the wrapping paper. The box was plain cardboard, so no hint there. You lifted the flaps which he'd left un-taped and peered into the box. It was big and grey and soft. A big, grey stuffed animal. A big, grey, stuffed cat. Not a realistic one, though. It looked animated, like a cartoon, with it's face and whiskers stitched into the fabric. You raised an eyebrow in Sam's direction and he broke into a fit of uneasy laughter. Dean leaned over to look in the box but you pulled it away.

“Aw man, is it a sex thing?” Dean whined.

“If it is a sex thing, I'm breaking up with him,” you said matter-of-factly, with your eyebrows raised in mild horror. Sam let out a howl of laughter.

“Show us!” Cas and Dean cried in unison.

You slumped your shoulders and huffed. You fixed your face into the best grin you could muster but your eyebrows creased and your eyes wrinkled at the corners, giving you away.

“It's just what I wanted, Sammy. Thank you. I love it,” you said, barely opening your mouth to let the words out. You pulled it out to show Cas and Dean and they both began laughing as they looked at Sam with confused expressions. Sam finally managed stop giggling long enough to explain it to you.

“This only represents your actual present, which I wanted you to have a hand in choosing,” he explained. You narrowed your eyes at him and cocked your head to the side.

“Oh no, no, no, no,” Dean said in a hushed tone as he connected the dots quicker than you. You glanced over at him. His eyes were wide and his eyebrows were furrowed as he shook his head vehemently. Sam pursed his lips as his eyes lit up with excitement. Annoying Dean was apparently an added bonus of this gift.

“You don't mean...” you began. You wondered how he could have known. You hadn't even realized adopting a cat might be something you'd want.

Your mind wandered to the last pet cat you'd had... a big, grey and white striped tabby cat that your mom brought home one day out of the blue when you were seven. He'd died, along with the rest of your family, when you were eighteen. You quickly pushed that part of the memory away and thought about the first time you'd seen him. He was still a kitten that day your mom brought him to you and asked you what kind of name he should have.

 

“Something silly,” you'd said, the air escaping your mouth with a whistle from your missing front tooth. You both giggled and she tapped you lightly on the nose before she held the little kitten up to her face and nuzzled him.

“I think I know just the thing,” she said in a babying voice as the kitten let out a squeaking meow.

“Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,” she said as she sat on the floor in front of you, putting the kitten down to let him explore. You giggled. That was a silly name.

“Henry.... Wad... sworlth... Logfellow...” you'd repeated as best you could.

“Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,” she said again, slowly, smiling at you. “But we can call him Henry for short.”

“But Henry isn't a silly name,” you said with a small pout.

“You're right... how about just Wadsworth then, or the more easily pronounceable, Fellow.”

“Yeah! Fellow! Because it's a word that everyone knows but not as a cat's name, so it'll sound weird,” you yelled excitedly as you both watched the kitten stumble around the living room, inspecting everything with his nose.

 

Maybe you'd told Sam about Fellow a few times. Maybe he'd come up when you'd told him about what happened to your family. You didn't exactly think of that moment often.

“Only if you want. I thought you'd want... But if you don't want, I'll get you something else,” he sputtered, slightly worried he may have been wrong about his gift. You pulled your eyes away from the stuffed animal in front of you and looked at Sam's hopeful smile and warm, happy eyes.

“Adopt a cat?” you asked, finishing your sentence from earlier. He nodded at you, his grin so wide you couldn't miss his dimples.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Dean said again, louder this time.

“Ignore him and do not factor him into your decision,” Sam said, looking only at you as he had been since he handed you the box.

“But Dean's allergic,” you said in a questioning tone.

“I looked into it and there are breeds of cats that are less likely to cause problems for people with allergies. Some of them will cause no problems for allergy sufferers,” Sam explained. “And I found a rescue near here that happens to have several cats of those breeds. So I thought we'd go down there tomorrow and you could see if you would like to bring one home.”

Sam took the box off your lap and without thinking about it, you hugged the stuffed cat gently to your stomach. Sam was grinning earnestly at you and you had to stop yourself from capturing that beautiful smile with your lips.

You wanted to say yes, but there was so much to consider. It was strange, wanting something for so long without even being aware of it, and then when given the opportunity to have it, you balk. Sam quirked an eyebrow at you. “You're acting like I just told you I'm pregnant or something,” he said, trying not to look hurt.

“How did you know?” you finally asked.

“What do you mean?”

“It's not like I run around wearing cat sweaters, hanging up cat calendars on my wall. I only ever loved one cat and I don't really like talking about him, even to you. I don't think I even realized that I'd like to have a pet cat again until about two minutes ago,” you explained.

“Sam's keenly observant,” Cas said. Sam shrugged nonchalantly. You narrowed your eyes at him. A beat passed.

“Okay, okay!” he cried under your unrelenting glare. “Well, there were a couple cases we worked where we were talking to the vic's family or just a witness, gathering intel, and they had a pet cat and you'd always pet them and uh... snuggle them. I don't think you even realized you were doing it, it was just sort of instinct. But the moment I knew you should have a pet cat was when we were working that case where Dean mind-melded with that dog, remember?” You glanced to Dean who was smiling distantly at the memory. He still growled in his sleep sometimes, though, of course, he'd never admit it. He caught you looking at him and his face fell.

“What?” he asked defensively.

You turned back to Sam. “Yeah, I remember,” you said with a light chuckle. His lips twitched up as his smile grew wider.

“Well, Dean and I were, uh, interviewing the dogs at the animal shelter and when we were getting ready to leave, we didn't know where you were. Eventually, I found you in the cat area, wiggling your fingers through the holes in the cage doors so you could pet them. I, uh, I just stood there and watched you for a little bit... and you checked to see if any workers were around and when the coast was clear... you let out about six of them so they could run around and play. You sat on the ground and let them climb all over you and they were rubbing against your back and meowing to be pet and rolling around and play fighting with each other. You looked like you were in heaven.” You smiled briefly at the memory of their warm, fuzzy bodies surrounding yours and cuddling with them... but then you realized Sam had seen all that... and now Cas and Dean knew, too. Your cheeks flushed and you wrapped your arms around your face as you bent over, your forehead buried in the body of Sam's gift, your arms resting on your knees, hiding yourself from the room.

“Oh my god, I can't believe you saw that!” you moaned, your arms muffling the sound. Dean and Cas snickered loudly.

“Don't be embarrassed, it was cute!” Sam exclaimed. He brushed his hand up and down your back, soothing you. You let out a loud, exaggerated groan causing Cas and Dean to break out in to a full fit of raucous laughter.

You lifted your elbow just a few inches off your leg so you could see Dean slapping his leg as he howled. Your eyes narrowed and you felt your cheeks heat up. You pulled your arms away and sat up straight, fixing your glare on Dean.

“No, you know what? I'm not gonna be embarrassed about this!” you yelled. “Do you know how much crap I have on you Dean? Least of which is you not figuring out that the Emerald City is _called_ the Emerald City because everything in it is fucking green until about eleven months ago!”

“What?” Sam guffawed before snickering at Dean. Cas redirected his laughter from you to Dean.

“It was the crappy tv at the motel, okay?” Dean yelled defensively. “It made it all look more yellow than green! I thought they were being ironic or something!” His defense did nothing to quell the laughter.

“And you!” you shouted, turning to Cas whose eyes grew wide as he stiffened. His mouth hung open slightly from where he'd stopped, mid-laugh. “Don't think you get off easy in all this! I have more on you than Dean.”

“Y/N, I think we all have more on Cas than we have on... anyone,” Sam commented.

“I still know things he made me swear to never tell a soul, especially the two of you,” you replied sinisterly. Cas narrowed his eyes at you.

“Has he ever gotten a boner in front of you? I don't think so,” Dean said, arching his eyebrows high.

“Oh come on, Dean. Give the guy a break! You had to go and bring that up? The poor guy couldn't help it!” you yelled. Cas nodded in agreement, shrugging his shoulders innocently.

“You're the one threatening to reveal everyone's embarrassing moments,” Dean shouted back.

“Yeah, but I'm not gonna make fun of someone for their, at the time, uncontrollable bodily functions! Why do you think it's lasted so long between Farty McGee and me?” you teased as you pointed your thumb in Sam's direction, unable to fight the smirk pulling at your lips.

“Hey!” Sam cried. “How did I get involved in all this? I wasn't teasing you!”

You turned to him with a playful pout on your lips. “Sorry honey, you got caught in the crossfire,” you said with a shrug. Sam rolled his eyes gently before giving you a hint of a smile and chuckling.

“I think you were about to reveal something about Cas?” Sam said, redirecting your attention.

“Ah, yes... Cas... let me think,” you sneered with your eyes narrowed thoughtfully on Castiel. You crossed your legs and leaned forward with you elbows resting against your knees as you tapped a finger arrogantly on your chin.

“You're acting as if I don't have anything I could spill about you,” Cas teased, leaning back to sit up tall and straight in his chair. You cocked your head at him. “For example, what about that night, after the first time you and S-” you leapt from your seat and stumbled across Sam's legs and the coffee table as you hurtled toward Cas, miraculously reaching him before he could fully get another word out.

Striking like a cobra, you clapped your hand tightly over his mouth as you used your knee to shove his legs together, pulled yourself in to the empty space on the chair and tucked your legs beneath you. You wrapped one arm around his back to support yourself as you kept your other hand pressed tightly over his lips. You glared him down as he sat, frozen, shocked by how quickly you'd silenced him. For a moment you sat victorious and thought how lucky you were that it was Cas and not Dean whose mouth you were covering because Dean would not hesitate to lick your hand and all the will power in the world could not keep you from retreating from that. You turned your head to the side so you could see Sam and Dean who were staring at you like you'd just grown a third arm. You let out a nervous laugh.

“My reaction was probably a little strong considering how totally not a big deal... whatever he was about to say... was.” A moment passed as you continued to sit there, unflinching, with your hand held tightly over Cas's lips.

“If it's not a big deal then why don't you climb on down from that chair and let go of the poor bastard?” Dean said with a chuckle.

You laughed nervously again as you glanced between Sam, who looked like he was trying to figure out what Cas had been about to say and how it might relate to him, and Dean, who looked bemused with an agonizing little sneer on his lips. You turned back to face Cas who still looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You hardened your gaze on him and whispered, “Are you gonna keep your mouth shut?” He dropped his eyelids and blinked slowly at you with his head cocked to the side. “Is that your way of saying you're not a complete idiot?” you asked.

“Yes,” he sighed, his warm breath ghosting over your palm. You immediately scrunched up your face and yanked your hand away to wipe it off on your thigh. Cas giggled at you as you slipped off the chair and took back your spot between Sam and Dean.

“You can kill any of the hoard of unspeakable evils that roam this earth and walk away from the fight drenched in their blood and guts but feeling my hot breath on your hand is too much for you?” Cas teased.

“I'sdifferent,” you mumbled. You glanced sideways between Sam and Dean, praying they wouldn't ask for more information about what you were trying to keep Cas quiet about.

“Hey, Y/N, remember that time you were texting me from the road and you said that you were so stressed you might resort to masturbating?” Dean said with a devilish smirk.

Your stomach flipped and your eyes grew wide with horror. Sam looked just as horrified as he swallowed hard and clenched his fists. Cas quietly giggled.

“And then you sent another message that said, 'masturbate' in all caps with a bunch of exclamation points. And then, 'Dammit! Menstruate!'.” He was hardly able to stifle his laughter and your lips began to twitch up, unable to deny that despite your embarrassment at the time, it was really funny. “And then, 'Meditate god dammit!'.” You and Sam had both started giggling now, your bodies shaking with laughter.

“Stupid auto correct,” you muttered through your giggles. A few moments passed before you were all able to catch your breath.

“Okay, can we call a truce on this battle?” Sam asked before anyone could remember a great tale to rouse the soldier's with.

“Movie?” you asked gleefully.

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, go get the dvd and set it up in here and then meet us in the kitchen so we can cut the cake.”

“Okay but, um, you're not gonna sing again are you? Because once was plenty,” you said with a light laugh as you jumped up from the couch and strode toward the doorway.

“Uh, we sang to Sam earlier, not you. And if I recall, it was just last night when I heard someone claim that if the song wasn't sung, then no birthday was celebrated,” Dean said with a smirk. “You. You said that,” he added flatly.

“Technically, we did sing the song, though,” you argued with a small smile.

“Are you really going to argue semantics?” Castiel asked. You huffed and blinked pointedly in his direction before rounding the corner into the hallway.

“Idjit,” you muttered once you were safely out of earshot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long for an update. There just was never a natural break to post it in smaller bits and it kept getting longer and longer and, well I'm just really happy to finally share it with you because I've hard parts of this written since the last update so I'm really glad you get to read it now :)
> 
> I'd love to hear from you guys so please leave a comment and let me know what you thought!  
> I hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	5. Thanks

         Once in your room you searched the shelves of your bookcase for the movie. It was a tall bookcase with the top four shelves dedicated to books and the bottom two to your dvd's, so you were on hand and knee hunting through the titles. You could hear the three men making their way to the other end of the hall, toward the kitchen. Just as you were about to head back out of the room, dvd in hand, your eyes landed on a small box of junk you kept hidden away in the corner of your room. You recalled that there was an old air horn in there that you'd bought to prank Dean a few months ago. For a moment you entertained the idea of letting it wail as soon as they started singing but then you thought about Sam and how you were really only going along with all of this because it made him happy and you resigned yourself to being good and prank-free for the rest of the day; for Sam.

Several minutes later, after setting up the movie in the living room, skipping the previews, and making sure the speakers were plugged in and working, you were making your way to the kitchen. As you walked down the hall you could see from the doorway that the lights were off and that it was uncomfortably quiet. What were they up to now?

You hesitated at the doorway and peered in slowly. It was pitch black except for the doorway where the light from the hallway spilled in. And it was exceptionally quiet. If they were there, they weren't showing it.

“Guys?” you called as you stepped directly through the doorway, landing in the pool of light. You heard a faint whisper from your left, where the dining table was, and the sound of hurried footsteps in your direction. As your eyes began to adjust, you could see it was Sam's towering figure coming quickly toward you. You could just make out the unmistakable grin on his features as he reached you.

“Hi,” he whispered. His giant arms wrapped you up as he pulled you to him, lifting you into the air. Before he could place you back down, though, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist (as one is want to do when their boyfriend is as strong as a tree and as tall as a moose). He chuckled but hitched you up higher around him so he could hold you more easily. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling your face close to his. He quickly side stepped out of the light, plunging you into the darkness, and as he did so, he spun around so that your back was to the unseen table. You could just begin to make out the edges of his face in the darkness and you wasted no time in pressing your lips hungrily to his cheek, smothering him with pecks. He sighed into you. With one of his hands on your back, holding you tightly to him, he ran the other through your hair, sending shivers down your spine, before resting it so that his hand was lightly holding your head close to his.

He pulled his head back so he could look you in the eyes for a moment, and as your heart was swelling up and into your throat, and a warm, fluffy feeling grew in your stomach, he leaned forward, pressing his lips tightly to yours; his skin melting into yours; his heart beating together with yours.

It had all happened so fast you hadn't even had a second to wonder why, when suddenly he was breaking from you. His arm slipped from your back and you uncrossed your legs so you could slip off of him. He smiled down at you.

“What was that for?” you asked in a whisper.

“I missed you.”

“I was only gone for, like, 5 minutes,” you said, teasing him.

“I missed you,” he said again with an innocent shrug. You noticed then that there was a warm, yellow glow cast across his face that almost seemed to flicker and just as you narrowed your eyes in confusion, he slipped his hand in yours and turned you around. There, at the table, stood Cas and Dean, who were also bathed in the warm, yellow, flickering glow. Before them was a square cake, decorated in your the same colors as the living room, that said, “Happy Birthday Y/N!” Atop the cake were at least thirty lit candles. Sam walked over to the table, pulling you along with him.

“Hang on, was that a _diversion_?” you asked Sam.

“Shh, the candles are melting,” he said, smirking. He had hardly finished his sentence when Cas and Dean started belting out “Happy Birthday to You”. Sam quickly joined in, an earth shattering grin on his lips.

Your face flushed and not entirely from the warmth of the flames before you, or because for the second time that day, poor Dean had had to watch as you made out with Sam. You couldn't fight the grin forming on your face, though, as Cas and Dean sang obnoxiously off key while motioning with their arms, their faces fixed into stern yet impassioned expressions as if they were performing an opera on stage for the likes of presidents and dignitaries. Sam wrapped his arm around your waist and your heart did a somersault. This, right here, was everything you could ever ask for.

" _Happy birthdaaaay, to youuuuuuu_."

The song reached it's end with Cas and Dean dragging out the last word until you'd finished blowing out every single candle on the cake (Dean had to sneak at least one breath to keep from passing out). They whooped and cheered and you clapped for their rendition, done only as they could.

“That was amazing,” you said, sides still weak from giggling. “Thank you,” you added, smiling at each of them individually. Cas and Dean were still laughing at each other. They were far too easily amused by their own jokes. Thankfully you'd forgone that air horn plan or you'd have missed all of that

You turned to Sam. “Did you honestly distract me with kisses so they could light the candles?” you asked.

Sam bit his bottom lip to fight his giggle. “Yeah, I wanted to surprise you and, well... it worked didn't it?” he said with a shrug.

You shrugged too. “Yeah, I guess it did,” you said, nodding.

The four of you got to work removing all the candles, licking the frosting from the ends and piling them onto a plate. When that was done, Dean began cutting the cake into square pieces.

“Alright, the birthday girl goes first,” Dean said when he'd cut half the cake. You held out your plate as Dean slid the wide knife under a piece.

“No, no, not that piece,” you said. Dean hesitated. “The next one.” He moved the knife to the next piece. “Over again... again.” He followed your command without complaint. “There, that's my piece.” He smiled and balanced the piece on his knife as he guided it onto your plate with his finger. You waited patiently while Dean served Sam and Cas, who decided he'd have some even if it wouldn't taste right to him. Dean piled his plate with two very large pieces.   
“What? I'm a growin' boy,” he said with a grin as he licked the icing off his fingers. They followed you back to the living room and you all took your seats. Sam set his plate down on the coffee table and asked what everyone wanted to drink. As he was leaving he said to start the movie if you wanted to. He passed by the back of the couch and you craned your neck to see him.

“You can't miss the beginning, the beginning's the best part,” you said with a pleading look in your eyes. Sam chuckled.

“It's all the best part to you,” he said as he leaned over the back of the couch to kiss you briefly.

He returned a few moments later with beer for Dean and himself and a water each for you and Cas. (You'd decided to go easy tonight after the rough hangover you'd had that morning.) He hit the light switch with his elbow as he passed it, leaving the room illuminated only by the bright light of the tv. He passed out the bottles and glasses and settled next to you on the couch as you started the movie. The beginning of the movie was spent in near silence as you all quietly devoured your cake.

“I think that was actually better than the restaurant cake,” Dean said in a hushed tone.

“Shhh,” you hushed him. “My movie's on!” A beat passed. “You only like it better because there was more,” you added, without looking away from the screen. He smiled and shrugged in agreement but you were too engrossed in the movie to notice. You leaned into Sam who lifted his arm and wrapped it warmly around you before leaving a lingering kiss on the crown of your head.

You were glad to see that they laughed at all the right parts and got tense and worried when the action started to build. They seemed to enjoy it almost as much as you did. When it ended everyone stood up with big yawns and stretched their arms and legs. Dean began clearing the dishes and beer bottles and carried them to the kitchen.

“That was a good movie,” Cas said.

You smiled sleepily at him. “I'm glad you liked it, you're officially in the cool club,” you said, with mock nonchalance before giggling at yourself. “Do you wanna stay the night? You know there're plenty of extra rooms or you can stay in here and watch movies or whatever, if you want.”

“Thank you but I should be getting back to heaven. There's some matters I need to see to,” he said, smiling politely.

“Oh, okay,” you said, unable to hide your disappointment.

“Is there anything we can help with? Is everything okay?” Sam asked.

“No, everything's fine. But I'll let you know the moment it's not,” Cas replied.

“You know you can come to us with anything, Cas,” you said.

“I do. I've got a stack of owed favors a mile high I'll need to cash in one day,” he said, smirking. The three of you had made your way to the doorway.

“Thanks for the bracelet, Cas. And thanks for celebrating my birthday with me,” you said as you pulled him into a warm hug.

“I wouldn't have missed it for all the grace in heaven,” Cas said, stepping back.

You grimaced at him for a moment before shaking your head and giving him a forgiving smile.

“You're lame, Cas. But I still miss you,” you said, and sighed so quietly it was almost undetectable. Cas smiled. But there was something… off, about it. Reluctant, almost.

“I'm going to say goodbye to Dean. Let me know how the bracelet works out, okay?” You nodded at him as he turned and walked off, toward the kitchen.

You pressed your back against the door jamb with your legs twisted together at your ankles and let out another long yawn. Sam leaned against the opposite side and reached out for your hands which you had folded behind you. A smile teased at your lips as you held them out to him and had them quickly fetched. You let your arms fall lank as Sam held your hands, rubbing his thumbs in circles over the backs of your hands.

“Happy Birthday,” he murmured. His eyes seemed to somehow reach across the small distance to hold yours, just as he held your hands in his.

“Shh! Someone might here you! You can't just run around saying things like that, people might get ideas and try to give me cake and presents and sing songs to me!” you joked. Sam dipped his head and laughed, a chunk of his hair broke free from behind his ear and curtained his face. You pushed yourself away from the wall and stepped toward Sam, your bodies nearly touching. His face seemed almost expressionless as he looked down at you but there was a hint of something warm and happy in his eyes. His eyes, his earthy, happy, loving eyes. You wanted to build yourself a cabin in them where you could curl up and live off the land of him.

You reached up and pushed his hair out of his face, tucking it back behind his ear. His lip jutted up on one side. You moved closer to him, pressing your body to him as he wound one arm around your neck, his fingers brushing through your hair, and the other around the middle of your back. You craned your neck as you tilted your face toward him, your lips pushed out just the smallest bit, inviting him closer. He leaned down and licked his lips before pressing them, warm and wet to your forehead. It reminded you of the wet kisses of your grandmother's chocolate Labrador, except this forehead kiss didn't make you squeal and push the giver away.

He tightened his arms around you and lifted you up into the air. You wrapped your legs around his waist and hooked your feet together behind him, locking yourself in place. He ran his hand across your jaw and cheek, grazing your earlobe as he brushed his fingers through your hair until he could pull your smiling face to his. His lips found your cheek first and then your upper lip and finally he moved to kiss you squarely on the lips. He pulled at them and licked their edges but before he could deepen it you pressed your palm squarely into his chest and pulled your face back from his.

“Whoa there, cowboy,” you said, making sure to smile at him so he'd know he'd done nothing wrong, which was always his first worry. You felt your heart twist painfully for a moment when you saw the hints of concern pulling at his lips and eyes, his eyebrows pulled together and wrinkled with worry.

“No, shhh, no, it wasn't you,” you said as your face fell and you wrapped your arms around his back and shoulders, pulling yourself back to him so you could peck reassuring kisses to any part of him your lips could reach, hoping they would imbue some kind of healing magic to him. You were still locked around his waist and he showed no signs of his arms or hips becoming weak. _Mental note: do not tease him the next time he goes on a run or does a billion pushups because this is what I get out of it._

You heard and felt it as he sighed into you, his fingers knotted into your hair. You didn't need to see his face to know the expression there. It would be the resilient one where his eyes were like broken windows, letting glimmers of sadness shine through, out of the steely exterior. You felt horrible for making him feel horrible in a way neither of you seemed able to control and he felt awful for making you feel horrible and you felt awful for making him feel awful and... it was a vicious cycle and for now, the only way out was to ignore it.

“I just- we're both tired. And there's a bed right down the hall... and I need to go tell Dean thank you again, before he goes to bed. I didn't want to get carried away...,” you said, trailing off.

Sam nodded and gave you a small smile. “You worry about my feelings too much,” he said.

“Hmm.... I disagree, but let's not get into that because we both know we'll just run ourselves in circles arguing about it,” you said as you unlocked your legs from him. He held your waist, steadying you as you found your footing.

You stood less than a foot apart, a hand casually on your hip, your weight shifted on to one leg. Though you'd just left his arms, it had apparently not been enough for Sam. He slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you back to him. You arched into him and fought the eager smile that pulled at your lips. He looked down at you with a grin on his lips, his eyes awash with tempestuousness. Sam leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in one short but lingering kiss and slowly pulled back, his eyes gently shut until the moment passed.

“Happy Birthday,” he whispered.

“Ugh,” you groaned, your face scrunching up like someone had just held a plate of snails and fried bugs in front of you. “You ruined it.”

Sam chuckled and shook his head at you. He found your hand and held it gently in his before you turned away from him and took a step toward the kitchen.

“Hurry,” he whispered, as your hand slipped from his. You were nearly to the kitchen before you glanced back and saw Sam's form retreating toward your bedroom.

You walked into the kitchen, which, this time, was brightly lit by its fluorescent bulbs that reminded you of high school. The cafeteria style table, and oversized pots, oven and sink meant to help cook for a large number of people, didn't help. Dean had already put a lid on the cake pan so it wouldn't dry out, dumped the candles, and was currently washing the plates and cups. You walked up next to him, apparently catching him off guard. He jerked his head up from the plate he'd been concentrating on, bewildered for a nanosecond before he realized it was you and his face softened.

“Hey,” you said, gently.

“Hey,” he replied with a small grin.

“Need help?” you asked.

“Nah, this is the last one. Besides, it's still your birthday.”

“Oh please,” you said half-rolling your eyes. Dean chuckled silently before moving to turn off the sink and placing the last plate on the drying rack. He turned around and leaned his back against the counter as he wiped his wet hands off on his black t-shirt and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What's up? I thought you'd have some, uh... One-on-one birthday celebrating to do,” Dean said, sneering and winking at you suggestively.

“Oh, for the love of- No, I'm actually really tired. Aren't you? You got up before I even did.”

Dean pulled his lips to one side in a small frown and wrinkled his eyebrows at you. “Oh please, I've heard you say that before and not five minutes later I was running away to my room so I could get my headphones on and drown you two out with a Zeppelin album.”

“Oh, like you'd be any different if you had a serious girlfriend?” you asked, matching his expression and shifting to lean against the counter, too.

Dean shrugged. “The world may never know, so I'm gonna keep giving you shit about it,” he teased.

“Come on... I know you're happy that he's happy,” you said, smiling and pushing into him gently with your hip.

Dean chuckled for a moment before his smile grew serious. “Yeah, I am. And I'm happy that you're happy. That's important to me, too. Two birds with one stone, right?”

“Thanks, Dean.” You smiled warmly at him and he smiled back, his green eyes bright in the fluorescent light. You could see all the freckles on his cheeks and the smile lines at the corners of his eyes. This was the face that got you through purgatory, this was the face that made you feel safe for the first time since losing your family and learning the supernatural was real this was the face that brought you to Sam, home. Dean meant safety and Sam meant home. Together, everything was perfect. You threw your arms around Dean and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, again, for the key slash key chain. I love it.”

Dean chuckled. “Aw, it was nothing... I'm just glad you like it.”

“Hey, so... about the whole cat thing...” you said as you released him and rested your back against the counter.

“Don't worry about it,” he said, slowly shaking his head.

“But your allergies,” you said, more a question than a statement.

“Yeah, just make sure you get one of those breeds Sam was talking about. And we won't let it in my room. And we'll make Sam vacuum and sweep. A lot,” he said, nodding and arching his eyebrows above his wide, distant eyes.

You cupped your chin, pushed your bottom lip out slightly and glanced sideways in contemplation. “Well, I do think it's super sexy when he cleans...”

“Nope. No. Never mind. You can vacuum and sweep,” he said, speaking rapidly and shaking his head, causing you to giggle. When you finally stopped, a long yawn escaped your mouth and before he could stop himself, Dean was yawning too.

“We better hit the sack. You gonna do anything tomorrow while Sam and I are at the shelter?” you asked as you both began making your way toward the door.

“Yeah, I'm gonna take a five mile run and clean this kitchen from floor to ceiling and I'll probably scrub down the showers too. And after that, I'm throwing a rave,” he said, speaking out of the side of his mouth, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Ha,” you said flatly, looking down your nose at him.

“Good night, sistah,” Dean said, hugging you again. He planted a light kiss to your cheek and gave you a final squeeze before letting go.

“Good night, Dean,” you said, half-heartedly rolling your eyes and shaking your head minutely at him, but smiling in spite of yourself. You'd made it to the hallway now. He took a few steps toward the adjacent hallway that led to his room, but he paused and looked back over his shoulder at you.

“Happybirthday!” he squealed and took off in a whirlwind, knowing full well you'd punch the tar out of him if you caught him. You heard as he laughed the whole way to his room. Lucky for Dean, you were too tired to pursue him and made your way in the opposite direction.

You greeted Sam with a yawn as you entered your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

“Me too,” he said with a bleary smile. He was already in bed, a book laid open, spine side up, across his lap.

“What was that noise?” he asked.

“Oh, just Dean being... Dean,” you said with a grin as you removed your clothes and replaced them with your pajamas. You slipped off the bracelet from Cas and found that Sam had brought all your gifts to your room. On the top of the dresser was the wooden box, which you put the bracelet into. Next to it was the key with it's silver Millennium Falcon key chain and on the floor, in it's cardboard box, was the grey stuffed cat. You frowned, scooped it out of the box, and padded to the opposite side of the room to set it on the small arm chair in the corner. You smiled and nodded at it's placement next to a throw pillow. Sam was looking at you suspiciously as you walked back to the door to flip off the lights, leaving the room illuminated only by Sam's reading lamp.

“What?” you asked as you climbed into bed and pulled the covers up and over your shoulders, settling on your side to face Sam.

“What was that for?”

“I... didn't like to think of it sitting in there... staring at the inside of a cardboard box,” you explained, avoiding his eyes. Sam chuckled.

“Y/N, it's an inanimate object,” he said.

“Shhh... it'll here you!”

“I know you know what inanimate means,” he said, quirking a knowing brow at you.

“Even so, you put the other two on display and left your gift sad and alone on the floor.”

Sam gave you a small smile and leaned over to kiss you gently on the cheek before rolling back on his back and lifting his book with one hand. He held the other arm out, inviting you closer. You scooted next to him and rested your head across his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and you sighed happily, though inside you were warring with yourself over whether or not to bring up the gift again.

Reason won over peace and content.

“Did you think I didn't like it?” you asked, pulling Sam from his book.

Sam shrugged beneath you. “You did seem to like the others more... I'm not bothered, though,” he added quickly. “I think you'll be really happy once we go to the shelter tomorrow and you get to have a real cat.”

You smiled and took a deep breath. “I will be. But I'm really happy now, too. I love my real fake cat. Wanna name it?” you asked, giggling silently, fully aware that it was completely silly.

“Y/N, you don't have to do this,” he said, sighing and closing his book over his thumb, to hold his spot, before laying it down on his lap.

“Do what?” you asked.

“Convince me that you like your gift. I'm honestly fine,” he said, but his abrasive tone gave him away.

“Sam...” you sighed, unable to fight the tinge of sadness in your voice. Sam swallowed hard and moved his book to the night stand so he could wrap his other arm around you. He bent over and pressed a kiss to your forehead before sighing.

“I did it again, didn't I?” he asked.

“What?”

“Started an argument on your birthday,” he said, reminding you of the drive home earlier that day.

“I wish we wouldn't argue like this at all, birthday or not,” you said. You lifted your head back so that you could see his face. His eyes were shut tight, he looked like he was in pain.

“Hey,” you whispered. You clamped a hand down on his chest, over his heart. “Did you know I have a Time Turner?” His face softened and you could see that he had one eyebrow arched high into his forehead.

“Yep, given to me by Professor McGonagall herself. Said it served another great and brilliant witch very well during her time at Hogwarts and hoped it would do the same for me,” you said, grinning. “She was supposed to destroy it but she gave it to me instead.”

“Man, Charlie is gonna be so jealous,” Sam said, smile evident in his voice.

“Oh, she knows already,” you said, sarcastically implying this was an obvious notion. Sam chuckled and his body shook gently beneath you. That was one of your favorite feelings in the world.

“Here, let me just...” you said as you pretended to toy with an invisible item that hung from your neck.

You made a sound that wavered in pitch and sounded something like, “Dwooshwooodeeeshwooop” as you did your best to imitate the sound of a rewound conversation. You rolled to the edge of the bed, away from Sam and he was giggling all over again.

“I really like where you put my cat,” you said. “It looks comfy there, next to the pillow.” You scooted yourself back across the bed, to Sam's side and nuzzled back into him before adjusting the blankets over you.

“Good, yeah, I was hoping you'd like it there,” Sam said, grinning, his eyes gently shut. He had one arm around your back and the other folded behind his head.

“We should give it a name,” you said. “So when we get the other cat tomorrow, we'll be able to introduce them.”

“God, you're a dork,” Sam said, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“Yeah, but I'm the dork you love,” you said in a sing-song voice before turning your head to gently peck a kiss to Sam's chest. He moved his arm up your back and began stroking his fingers through your hair.

“How about... Minerva?” he asked.

“Hmm, Minerva... wherever did you get that name from?” you asked knowingly.

“She's an animagus isn't she? And her form is a grey cat that sort of looks like that one.”

“Huh,” you said, lifting your head to look at the cat. You nodded with an amused expression on your face. “Yeah... not bad...” Sam chuckled softly at your amusement and continued gently brushing his fingers through your hair.

You looked back at him with a sleepy grin on your lips. “Bed time?” you asked.

“Bed time,” Sam said with a single nod of agreement. He leaned over and turned off his lamp, casting the room into total darkness. He scooted down until most of his body was under the blankets and turned on to his side to face you. You had your arms pulled into your chest, the rest of your body was straight as board. Sam copied you. There was something so intimate about laying so close with him but not a centimeter of your bodies touching. You laid just like that for several moments, staring into each others eyes, having some kind of silent conversation.

Suddenly, Sam's hair slipped away from behind his ear and swept over his face, but before he could even begin to move, you'd swiftly reached your arm out to him to fix it. Your fingertips brushed across his cheek as you pushed the hair back. They grazed his ear as you tucked it gently back. You drug your fingers down, behind his ear and slowly down his jaw. You stopped and gently held the side of his face. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at him and he looked at you and you thought about Sam and his kindness and gentleness and goodness and how lucky you were to go to bed every night with a real life superhero. You shifted closer to Sam, pressing your body against his. He wrapped his arms around you and you twisted your legs with his. You leaned forward less than an inch and pressed your lips to his for a moment before resting your head back against the pillow, your eyes drifting shut. You knotted your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck as he held you and pressed sporadic kisses to the spot on your forehead that was right next to his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered at some point when you were beginning to drift into unconsciousness.

“Love you, Sammy,” you managed to mumble back, just before sleep over took you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and would love to hear some feedback so please leave a comment and/or kudos! 
> 
> So the first thing I want to say is that, just for the record, the part with Dean and the icing, I totally wrote that like two weeks ago, so well before it happened in this weeks episode. Not that that's the most novel thing but I just had this image in my head of people reading that and thinking I got it from the episode. I really didn't, okay? hahaha. Honestly, it's the tiniest thing and I'm being a big baby, not even gonna lie about that. 
> 
> Secondly, we're getting very close to the end now! I want to thank everyone that's left kudos and comments so far, you guys are so awesome and sweet! 
> 
> Thirdly, I really wanted you to be able to imagine them watching whatever movie is your favorite, so I'm sorry if that part seems a little... blank? for lack of a better word. I wanted you to be able to project on to it and it was honestly a little bit of a challenge in resistance because I'm all about the details! haha. (ps, in my mind, Raiders of the Lost Ark)
> 
> Also, I'm really really tired as I'm posting this right now (I finished it a few hours ago and have reread it about 5 times, making sure everything is good) so even though this is all making sense to me right now, I might wake up tomorrow and see that this is complete gibberish and have to change it. Sorry if it is gibberish! lol. 
> 
> The weird stuff with Cas toward the end... I realized I've sort of messed up continuity but whatever. I didn't really have a plan originally, and then as I was writing, realized the timing is roughly around the first half of season 9 but in my mind Cas is dealing with Naomi and all that which is completely in a different season. So... whatever, I'm not perfect and this isn't professional level work by any means anyways hahaha. I have every intention of doing parts later on for Sam and Dean's birthdays and have outlines for them and one of them involves some stuff with Cas and Heaven so maybe I'll eventually work all that out and give that some different back story.
> 
> The title sucks, doesn't it? Let's just be honest for a second. I'm the worst at titling things, it is a known fact.
> 
> I'm really tired, sorry for the rambling hahaha.


	6. Man Bun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Useless, plotless hair porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered scrapping this several times because it has nothing to do with the story really and I swore the next part would be the last but I'm terrible at listening to myself and I thought a lot of what I'd written was pretty cute and I didn't want to lose it entirely. So consider this to be Chapter 5 and a 1/2 hahaha.

You woke the next morning to Sam pressing kisses to your cheeks and jaw and neck before moving down... and down.... and....  _gasp_... down. The first hour of the day was filled with kisses and moans and grunts as you wrapped yourselves in each others bodies. You held each other after, finding it hard to move away from the warmth of the covers and from each other, from the bliss. But eventually your physical needs won out.

“Mmm, I need to shower before we go,” you whined with you arms still wrapped tightly around each other and your legs tangled together. You mindlessly drug your foot up and down the side of his leg, caressing him with your heel.

“Mmm... Me too,” he groaned.

You got up and found your pajamas which Sam had tossed hastily to the floor.

“You coming?” you asked as you pulled your clothes on. Sam's eyes were trained on his phone as he scrolled through a news article. His need to remain up-to-date was almost incessant.

“Go ahead, I'll be there in a minute,” he said, glancing away from his phone and smiling reassuringly at you.

The bunkers bathroom was like that of a college dorms, with a row of four showers on one side of a wall and a row of toilets and sinks on the other side. When you first moved in, the shower stalls didn't have shower curtains. The forties were a different time, you supposed. The Men of Letters apparently weren't concerned with modesty and probably never suspected one day a woman would be living in their precious, manly bunker. It only took Dean accidentally walking in on you once and catching your naked reflection in the mirror that hung opposite the showers to fix that problem.  After, you'd found a perplexed Sam who told you Dean had up and left without saying a word. When he came back home an hour later, he was weighed down by curtain rods and shower curtains which he promptly and wordlessly installed.

You'd each claimed one of the stalls as your own so you could keep all your toiletries in there without it becoming chaotic. Dean's was first, then Sam's and then yours. You pulled the curtain shut behind you, undressed, and hung your pajamas messily on the double-hook outside the stall that also held your towel. You turned the water on and curved your body out of the way to avoid the initial blast of cold water. When it was safe, you stepped into the stream, letting the water spill over you and warm you.

A few minutes later, when you were lathering the shampoo in your hair, you heard the door creak open and the sound of Sam's unmistakable footsteps as he entered the room.

“Sam?” you called, just to be sure.

“Who else?” he asked sarcastically as he pulled off his clothes and hung them beside his towel like you had done.

The wall of the shower stalls were just under eye level on you but for Sam his shoulders easily surpassed them, providing him an unfair view of you. Not that he would ever take advantage of that, not even after all your time together. No, Sam was a perfect gentleman of course and wasn't the kind of person who made every situation a sexual one. Though, on occasion, you had given him permission to sneak a peak. Sometimes it was nice to be ogled.

The pipes creaked as he turned the knobs and water came pouring out of the shower head. He yelped as the cold water hit his skin.

You couldn't help but laugh as you turned around to rinse your hair. “Will you ever learn? It does that every time,” you said as you glanced sideways to see him turning around and wetting his hair, his eyes shut tight as he ran his fingers through his hair, helping the water soak through to his scalp.

“I kinda like it, though. It helps wake me up,” he explained.

“I thought that was my job,” you said as you smirked openly at him.

He glanced sideways at you, allowing his eyes to open just a smidgen and smirked back.

“It's a very different kind of awake,” he said as he shut his eyes and began lathering shampoo through his hair.

Several minutes passed without either of you saying another word. You were pouring body wash onto your loofah and beginning to scrub it on your arms and chest when Sam broke the silence.

“So, last night...,” he began as he was scrubbing his bar of soap over his body.  

“Yeah?”

“Cas's embarrassing story he was gonna tell about you...,” he continued. Your stomach somersaulted.

“Um... yeah?” you said reluctantly as the steamy water rinsed the soap suds from your body.

“Was it about me?” he asked, finally getting to his point.

You hesitated. It was, in a way, but you didn't want him to know that, or the story, at all. You never outright lied to each other, though. And he asked you a direct question. He deserved a direct and honest answer.

“Not... exactly,” you said, after a moment had passed. You were done showering now but you continued to let the warm water soothe your muscles.

Sam turned off his shower, reached around the curtain to pull his towel off the hook and began drying himself off.

“Is that all you're gonna tell me?” he asked. His voice was hard to read. Surely he wouldn't be mad about something so silly....

He slid the curtain back and stepped out of the shower stall with his towel hanging loosely around his waist. You were basically just hiding in the stall now, avoiding his eye contact.

“It was just something embarrassing and stupid that happened, Sam. Like I said last night, it's not a big deal,” you explained, probably speaking a little more curtly than was necessary.

“I just don't understand how it can be sort of about me but I don't know about it and presumably wasn't there when it happened,” he explained with a smile as he stood in front of the expansive mirror that hung on the wall opposite the showers. It was directly above a wide counter where you left a hair brush and moisturizers and lotions. Sam was combing his fingers through his wet hair, his towel wrapped tight around his waist. You stood with your back to the shower stream as you watched him. He caught sight of your eyes reflected in the mirror and you held each others gaze for a moment.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't guilt you into telling me. My interest is just really piqued and you know how curious I get. I'll leave you alone about it,” he said, smiling gently as he turned away from the mirror and padded out of the room. His dripping wet hair left a trail of small water droplets behind him.

You quickly shut off the water and pulled your towel from the hook to dry yourself off. You wrapped your towel around your self and stood in front of the mirror where you quickly brushed through your wet hair and moisturized your face before rushing down the hall to your bedroom.

Sam had already dressed and was buttoning up his shirt when you entered the room.

You tossed your towel aside, pulled open your dresser and quickly picked out your clothes. Sam sat down on his side of the bed, his back to you as he read another news article on his phone while you dressed.

“Hey, can I brush your hair?” you asked as you pulled your shirt over your head. Sam turned around and looked at you suspiciously. You loved to play with his hair, that was a well known fact, but it still seemed like an odd request.

“Sure...” he answered hesitantly. You grinned wide before grabbing a hair brush from your dresser and slipping a spare hairband around your wrist. You jumped on the bed and tucked your legs beneath you as you scooted up to Sam's back. You carefully pulled the brush through his long, towel-dried hair, starting on the side, at his temple.

“Do you remember the first time we had sex?” you asked. Sam laughed at the abruptness and seemingly random nature of your question.

“You really think you need to ask that? Of course I do,” he said with a chuckle as you placed the brush to the edge of his forehead and pulled back, brushing down the middle of his scalp and all the way to his nape.

“I know, but we were tipsy. And then afterward we played Never Have I Ever,” you said as you concentrated on his hair.

Sam laughed. “Yeah and you lost. And convinced me to go to the Chinese place next to the motel and get you a takeout feast. I remember.”

“Those were some great Crab Rangoons... mmmm...,” you said with a sigh as you paused mid brush stroke and stared ahead wistfully. Sam chuckled.

“There's a part of that night you don't know about,” you said as you pulled the brush through the hair at his other temple.

“Is this the story?” he said excitedly.

“So, I hopped in the shower for a quick second while you were gone and when I finished, I was still pretty drunk. And I see you sitting on the bed with your back to me, but the lights are off and it never even occurs to me that something might be strange about that.”

“Oh no.”

“So I flip off the bathroom light and climb across the bed and wrap my arms around you from behind and then turn your head to face me and immediately begin sloppily, drunkenly kissing you,” you recounted.

“Wh-Why don't I remember any of this?” he asked. He began to turn around to look at you but you planted your hands on either side of his head and held it straight so you could keep brushing his hair.

“Shhh, let me tell my story,” you said with one final stroke of the hair brush. You began pulling his hair together at the base of his crown. “And finally I realize something's a little strange. You're not running your hands all over me and you seem a little too short and your lips are all wrong and then it really hits me when I realize your hair is way too short,” you continued as you wrapped the ponytail around Sam's hair, creating a tiny little bun.

“Oh no.”

“So I jumped off them and flew across the room and flipped the light switch on and there's Cas, sitting on the bed, completely dumbfounded, his hair all askew and eyes as wide as two full moons with his arms stuck to his side, stiff as a board,” you finished as Sam pulled his leg on to the bed and turned around to face you. His eyes were alight with surprise and amusement as his mouth hung open.

“Oh my god you made out with Cas!” he shrieked.

“And I was drunk! And naked! It was so embarrassing!” you cried as you covered your face with your hands.

Sam was quietly giggling when he stopped abruptly. “Wait, what happened next?” he asked, as giddy as if you were recounting the tale to a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party.

“He was like, 'I gather you thought I was someone else',” you said, doing your best Castiel impression. Sam sputtered out his laughter as he failed to maintain it behind his tightly shut lips.

“And I ran to the bathroom and wrapped myself up in a towel and then told him I thought he was you, which caused a whole string of questions about us and what we were doing and what Dean thought about it. It was kind of adorable,” you said.

“Why had he even shown up?” Sam asked.

“I think he wanted to ask something about Kevin or give us some info. I can't remember exactly,” you replied with a shrug. “I told him to call you later.”

“I can't believe you made out with Cas... while completely naked,” he said, still mildly shocked.

“Are you jealous?” you asked with a simpering smile.

“Nah, I mean, I get to do that plenty,” he smirked as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to yours. He leaned forward until you were forced back onto your elbows and he didn't stop until you were fully beneath him, your back against the bed with only Sam's arms supporting you. You ran your arm up his back, beneath his shirt. His skin was still soft and dewy from showering and you were engulfed by the scent of his springy soap. He ran his tongue along the edge of your lip, teasing you.

Suddenly Sam's whole body stiffened and he pulled back.

You slowly opened your eyes to see him staring down at you with a questioning gaze. You glanced around and arched your brow at him.

“Something wrong, Sam?”

“Did you...,” he began but trailed off as he began patting his hand over his hair and then tentatively cupped the bun you'd made. He sat all the way back and dropped his chin to his chest as he stared down his nose at you. You pushed yourself back onto your elbows as you grinned sheepishly at him.

“Man buns are really in right now.”

“Man buns!? Who would call it that? Why?” he shrieked. He paused and took a deep breath. “First of all, it's just a fucking bun, okay, society?” he admonished to no one in particular as you quietly snickered under your breath. “We really need to stop gendering things arbitrarily. It's so annoying! Secondly, I so don't have the hair length to pull this off!” he yelled as he climbed off the bed and inspected his new hair-do in the mirror.

You jumped off the bed and immediately got to work. You pressed your palm over the tiny knot of hair and wiggled it to loosen up the strands. You then made your way around him, gently combing and tugging at his hair until it looked perfectly effortless with little wisps of hair covering the tops of his ears and blending into his sideburns.

Sam turned his head from side to side as he once again contemplated his hair before looking at you with an expression of approval.

“Not bad,” he said.

“Not bad? Please. You look like Chris Hemsworth. You should be thanking me,” you said with a coy smile.

“Hemsworth? He plays Thor, right?”

You nodded excitedly.

“Well, if it works for Thor...,” he said, grinning and chuckling lightly. “I thought you liked running your fingers through my hair, though?” he asked with a slight frown.

“Yes, but I think I can confidently say that you're not gonna walk out that door and risk Dean seeing you with your hair like that,” you said with a tone of arrogance, daring him to prove you wrong.  

But Sam, sadly, was not so easily manipulated. He immediately grasped the hairband between his thumb and forefinger and tugged it until his shaggy, brown hair burst free like a bird rustling it's feathers before it fell back around his face in a messy curtain.

“You know me so well,” he said with a grin that was nearly obscured behind his veil of hair.

You combed your fingers through his hair, straightening and tucking each strand until it was just so.  Sam stayed perfectly still as you worked and you wondered if that was the loving boyfriend who wanted nothing more than to please you or the well-trained, younger sibling who was used to having things done to him in the name of childhood games. Dean had told you all too eagerly about one of his many “girlfriends” from one of the numerous motels John ditched the boys at, who had a penchant for dolling up poor, unsuspecting four year-old Sam.

You locked your fingers together behind his head as you grinned up at him. You guided his face down to meet yours and planted a gentle, lingering kiss to his cheek, just below his eye. The world always seemed so quiet when you kissed Sam. There was only you and him and your skin touching and your hearts beating... no matter how innocent or short the kiss.

You pulled back and let your arms drop to your side. Sam held his stooped position for a moment, his eyes still shut. And you caught a flash of something across his composed features. Something that reminded you of heartache... something that reminded you of how it felt to be so in love with someone that wasting away to nothing seemed worth it if it meant you never had to leave each others arms.

He stood up straight and cracked a smile at you as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“We should get going,” he said. “We've got a cat to find.” You smiled back up at him.

“You're tall. You check the trees. I'll check the bushes,” you said, smirking out of the side of your mouth as you turned away and pulled the door open. Sam sighed.

“Always with the sarcasm,” he said as he shook his head and followed your bouncing form down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it :)   
> Please, comment and leave kudos if you did! <3


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